


I just need you to show me

by lockedlocke



Series: I just need you to show me [1]
Category: Captain America (Comics), Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bisexual Steve Rogers, Blowjobs, Bottom Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes questions himself, Bucky Barnes-centric, Didn't Know They Were Dating, First Time, First Time Blow Jobs, First Time Topping, First Time for Everything Fest, Fluff and Smut, Frotting, Happy Bucky Barnes, Happy Ending, Happy Steve Rogers, Idiots in Love, M/M, Modern AU, Sexuality Crisis, Shameless Smut, Top Bucky Barnes, experimenting, grindr hookup, handjobs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-20
Updated: 2019-04-17
Packaged: 2019-11-26 12:17:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 46,688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18180503
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lockedlocke/pseuds/lockedlocke
Summary: Nobody would have to know. It could stay between him and whoever Bucky chooses.A quick google search tells him that the app he needs to get for something quick and easy, with no strings attached is Grindr. He downloads the app while he watches a bit of a Simpsons episode. It doesn’t take long, and when the app is downloaded, he looks at black icon with the yellow mask.“Nobody has to know,” Bucky mutters under his breath as he taps the app.





	1. First base

**Author's Note:**

> The title comes from a song by an artist named Sakima, the song is called Show me, which practically embodies this first chapter and the rest of the fic with what Bucky goes through. 
> 
> As always, many many thanks to Birdjay, for the forever support, cheerleading and help with all the editing, you're a gem. 
> 
> This fic is completed, and by the looks of it, it'll be posted once a week on Wednesdays.

“Well, you’ve got to give it to Vanessa. At least she was honest,” Natasha says, with ease as she turns them down yet another block. “All the others, none of them really were.” Bucky snorts in response to her, and starts to hope that it’s the last block that Natasha wants to run down. It’s not that he’s getting tired, or that his sides are burning. It’s just that he’d like his breath back. 

“What on earth is that supposed to mean?” He asks, purposely slowing down a little bit and running behind Natasha so they can pass by a woman with a twin stroller without colliding into her. 

“I mean.” Natasha doesn’t sound the slightest bit out of breath, and only pauses until Bucky is running beside of her again. “All the other girls? They always ended things with you by saying,  _ It’s not you, it’s me, _ right?” She looks at him, her bright red hair tied tightly on the back of her head, braided and twirled up so it doesn’t get in her face. 

“Right,” Bucky admits with a grunt, not  at all happy to confirm it with her. Natasha knows full well that every girl he’s dated has given him that speech. 

“Well, Vanessa was the first one with the balls to actually say,  _ it’s not me it’s you. _ I respect her a little bit for that if I’m going to be honest.”

“You’re my friend, you’re supposed to support  _ me _ ! You’re being a terrible friend right now,” Bucky huffs. He doesn’t have to look at her to know that she’s rolled her eyes, but he isn’t angry with her for it. Called out, yes. Angry? No. He’s already decided he’s going to text her a meme about it when they split up for the day. He knows she means well, in that special way that only she’s capable of. 

_ I came out to have a good time and i am honestly feeling so attacked right now… _ Yes, he’s going to send that to her tonight.

“No, but it’s a good thing.” She gestures with her hand towards him. “Now you actually have someone telling you there’s something with  _ you,  _ so now you know there’s something you need to work on. And, now you can be pretty damn sure that every other  _ it’s not you it’s me, _ actually means,  _ it is you.” _

“Terrible, terrible friend. What are you going to do now? Do like that Big Bang Theory episode where they gathered that Indian guy’s exes so he could hear them tell him  _ why _ they broke up with him like some stupid ass movie?” Bucky laments to her. Natasha only continues to ignore him. 

“I broke up with you because I thought you were gay,” Natasha says without missing a beat and turns down another block. The surprise of it almost makes Bucky crash into a trashcan during his own turn. 

“Nat!” Bucky exclaims. Natasha, like the fucking gazelle she is, just keeps on running, leaving him to catch up. “We were fourteen and together for two weeks. I don’t think that counts.” 

“Still thought you were gay.” She shrugs.

“Well, I’m not.” Bucky declares to her, loudly. “I’ve had girlfriends all my life! You know that. I haven’t been single for longer than two months since… sixteen or seventeen. Girls. All of them.” Bucky points out to her, feeling the need to do so for a reason he can’t quite explain. Now he’s starting to feel a little bit annoyed with her. Not angry, but annoyed. If anything, he’s more angry with himself. It’s not a bad thing to be gay, and yet he finds himself acting like it is.

“Bucky, for  _ you  _ girlfriends have never been more than just girls who are friends, better friends than regular girls. Don’t confuse the two just because you’ve got an easy time getting someone to go out with you.”

“I’m not confusing anything,” Bucky retorts to her, sounding a little bit like his nephew does when he doesn’t get to watch his favorite cartoons. “They’re girlfriends. I have sex with them. I don’t sleep with every single female friend that I have.”

“I didn’t know that being gay made you entirely incapable of sleeping with women?” Natasha teases him. He can see the hint of a grin in her side profile. Bucky rolls his eyes in response and decides not to fight with her. He’d lose, hell, he usually loses any discussion that he has with her. 

“I asked Vanessa to move in with me.” Bucky points out to her next. Determined to prove that Natasha’s little joke is just plain wrong. He’s dug himself into a hole and he doesn’t want to stay there. He’ll get out, somehow. 

“I could use the same argument in return but I won’t for the sake of your dignity.” Natasha comes to a halt by a red light and bounces in the same spot to keep her blood flowing. Bucky chooses not to, and takes this moment to catch his breath. “Look, all I’m saying is, you were with Vanessa for eight months. She did you a favor by not wanting to move in with you. You don’t even seem that upset that she dumped you.” 

Bucky snorts and looks at the little red man on the streetlight. Determined to look at anything but her. “I am upset,” he says, waving his hand. “It’s been shitty.” He doesn’t want to go into just how he’s been dealing with it. Sure, it’s only been a week and he’s doing well. He’s got friends who went out on a binge and got drunk for three days straight when their girlfriends left them. All he really did was binge a tv show on Netflix and even  _ that _ had been nice, because there had been no one he had to justify his choice for. 

He had liked Vanessa, he really had, she’d been fun. They always had a laugh when they went out together, she was sweet and would get an adorable look on her face every time he showed her a picture of baby bunnies. So it wasn’t like he had been miserable with her, or she had been terrible for him. Far from it. 

“Seem to be very upset for a guy who’s girlfriend of eight months wouldn’t move in with him,” Natasha chimes and then takes off the moment the red man goes out, and the lamp above with the green man turns on. 

“I miss Vanessa,” Bucky says, a bit more forceful than any other sentence he’s had for that conversation. Natasha seems to let it rest, but he can tell by the look on her face that there’s something else she wants to say. Luckily for her, or for himself Bucky isn’t entirely sure. She keeps that to herself. For the next two blocks, they run in silence. 

“Alright, how about this then,” Natasha cracks under the silence, and the instant she speaks Bucky knows that she’s just been formulating her second argument. “You treat your girlfriends, exactly the same way as your friends,” she said, and Bucky just looked at her in confusion. “I mean, when we go out drinking or clubbing or whatnot. You meet a girl, you’re all happy and smiley and sweet and offer drinks.” 

“Right,” Bucky agrees, resisting the temptation to point out that what’s she’s explaining is just the act of flirting. He’s always been a natural flirt. 

“And it works, you flatter them, open doors and pull out chairs, all gentleman unless they’re insane, like Joana who screeched at you for doing it,” Natasha waves with her hand again, and Bucky laughs at the memory. “But… you don’t do that just for them. It takes a girl one week of watching you to realise what you’ve been doing for them is exactly what you do for everyone else. And it’s not with bad intentions. You don’t do it because you’re a player. You do it because you’re sweet, and they realise that.” 

“Right,” Bucky repeats, noticing now that her sentences are growing shorter. Natasha is working herself out of breath. Somehow, that makes him feel a little bit better about himself. 

“That sort of takes the magic away, you know?” Natasha looks at him. “Cause they look at you and realise. Oh, he’s treating me like we’re friends. He’s not serious about me. So they break up with you. They’re off to find someone who does put in time in them. To build something. Ever wonder why flings are the only relationships, that seem to work out for you? Because for a guy who claims he wants a family. Who wants kids. You come across as awfully- noncommittal. Oof,” Natasha stops running and places a hand on her side, slowing down their pace to a walk. 

“How do I come across as noncommittal when I’m asking someone to move in with me?” Bucky asks, absolutely flabbergasted at her statement. “If I was noncommittal, I’d never ask them to pack up their lives and merge completely with mine?” He turns to look at her, hoping it’s the end of their run now. She shakes her head. 

“It’s not like thats” Natasha says. “It’s like… you don’t act committal. You say and do all the right things to seem it, and it seems that way if you mean it. But it seems empty you know? Like you don’t  _ really  _ mean it? It’s like, when you and I go to the movies yeah? I suggest a movie and you say  _ sure, let’s watch that _ but you know you’d rather see a different movie, but you say it cause it makes  _ me _ happy and you know you can go again sometimes next week to watch Transformers number sixty-three. We’ll both be sitting there watching the new James Bond and you won’t mind watching it, but for two hours long you’ll wonder just what Bubblegum is saving now.” 

“Bumblebee.”

“Bumblebee whatever.” Natasha shoves him, and eases their pace into a rapid walk. “But we’re still watching a movie and I’ll be sitting next to you, knowing you’d much rather do something else but you won’t actually say it. That’s probably what your exes feel, that you’re not interested in them.” 

“I am interested in them!” Bucky says, a little bit louder than he originally intends and matches her pace. “I picked up mountaineering for Iris. Don’t tell me that’s not being interested in them.”

“And you dropped mountaineering just as fast as you picked it up when she left you.”

Bucky rolls his eyes. “Still. It’s called being interested in someone if you start investing time into their hobbies.” 

“Marla told me she thought you weren’t attracted to her,” Natasha says, without missing another beat and starts to run again. Leaving Bucky stunned, and behind. With an exasperated sigh he starts jogging again, taking a good couple of seconds to catch up with her again. 

“Marla is beautiful.”

“She is. But I didn’t say she thought you didn’t think she was beautiful. She said that she thought you weren’t attracted to her. Two different things Bucky. Also not to be confused.” Natasha points out to him, Bucky rolls his eyes again -- she’s talking to him like he’s a child. 

“Well, she was being ridiculous, I found her attractive. I’m offended she thought I wasn’t.” 

“Then why did she tell me she had to initiate sex eight times out of ten?” Natasha fires the gun quickly, as if she’s been saving up on that shot. As if she’s been waiting for Bucky to step right into her line of sight. 

“Wait, she told you all of that?” Bucky asks first, much more concerned with the fact that Marla shared such a personal and honestly, private thought with Natasha. He’s even slightly angry with her for it. It’s not that he keeps secrets from Natasha, hell, he’s always told her everything anyway, even about his sex life. There’s more betrayal to it, of Marla going around his back and talking to  _ his _ friends about  _ their  _ sex life. Natasha seems unphased by it, and looks at Bucky with a raised eyebrow while she’s waiting for her answer. “Higher sex drive. That’s a thing you know.” 

“I’m not saying it isn’t,” Natasha deflects, making Bucky wonder if its her favorite card of defense. “It’s hard for a girl to feel attractive when she’s always the one initiating sex with their guy, especially knowing that he jerks off willingly in the shower every morning.”

“Oh my god I’m done having this discussion with you,” Bucky declares, knowing full well that the discussion isn’t over. It wouldn’t be until Natasha decides that it is. Bucky knows it has to be the latter, because Natasha has her own key and she will use it. “I jerk off, so what? I’m sure you didn’t stop masturbating just because you were seeing someone. I know for a fact that you do. Nearly every human being does.” 

“I do,” Natasha, as always, doesn’t even seem to be embarrassed by that statement. “It’s healthy to masturbate, Bucky, but we’re talking about you jerking off every morning while you had someone very willing to jerk  _ you _ off, that’s the difference.” 

“No, the difference is that you’re intent on finding evidence I’m gay. I’m not. I don’t even find men attractive. And, you keep trying to find difference to  _ every single thing _ I’m countering with.” 

“Do you know that for a fact though?” Natasha turns down another block, ignores his second statement and sets the direction back towards his apartment which Bucky’s grateful for. He’s starting to get tired, and now all he desperately wants is a shower. “Cause you still haven’t convinced me that you were attracted to Marla. You ever fantasize about a man?” Natasha asks, curiously. 

“No, I haven’t because I’ve got no desire to be with a guy. The only dick I want to touch is my own alright?” 

“Not even a gay fantasy in college? Everybody’s a little bit gay in college.” 

“Oh I remember -- you went full blown lesbian in college. No, never, not once. I mean, do you even remember my roommate? Isn’t that like, what makes people realise? The roommate fantasy?” Bucky reminds her. Lucas had been everything, but desirable. Bucky isn’t someone to judge anyone for their hobbies, but for as far as he was concerned Lucas had a problem with cheese balls, World of Warcraft and had yet to meet deodorant. Not exactly a desirable person to be involved with. He had once complained about still being a virgin to Bucky when he had been preparing for a date, and it had taken all of Bucky’s self control to keep his thoughts to himself. 

“Yeah fair. He wasn’t exactly…” Natasha trails off rather than finishing her sentence, deciding that silence is by far the kinder option. “Anyway, I never looked back on being a lesbian in college. It was kind of an eye opener.” Natasha eases their run back into a rapid pace, and Bucky falls into it. “So, you know. You might be gay, might not know it until you try?” 

“I’m twenty-eight, Natasha. I think if I actually  _ were _ to be gay, I’d have figured it out by now, don’t you think? People figure that out in their teens. Not when they’re nearing thirty,” Bucky huffs at her, and wonders what the people they pass by on the busy street must think with the fragments they can overhear of the conversation. Thank fuck they haven’t encountered anyone that they know. 

“I don’t know. People are coming out with everything at all ages. You don’t have to be in your teens anymore. People make sex changes in their sixties now. People are still coming out with all sorts of sexualities and other stuff at that age. Sure, at thirty you might be a little bit later than the statistical average now, but you’re not an anomaly.”

“Stop wishing I’m gay,” Bucky grunts in response, now properly annoyed with her. The tone that he takes seems to get the message across. For the next five minutes they walk side by side in silence. The tension only remains hanging in the air for another minute, and after that they just powerwalk the last bit back to Bucky’s apartment. By the time Natasha has to leave, they hug again, and he kiss her cheek to show that he’s not angry with her anymore. 

“I’d still love you if you were though, you know that right?” She whispers to him, squeezing his shoulder harder before letting go. She winks, and then she takes off up the street again, leaving him standing by the door to his apartment building. 

“I’m not!” He calls after her, rolling his eyes as he slips inside his apartment building Bucky runs up the stairs to head for his shower. 

 

\--

 

He’s not gay. 

Bucky’s confident about this. Not once has he been interested enough in a guy to consider sleeping with him. Let alone touch a dick, let alone kiss. Sure, he’ll hug anyone if he’s had enough to drink, but that counts for pretty much everyone he knows. He’s a hugger, so what?

So because of that, Bucky decides that he’s not gay. 

Except…

Natasha’s words haunt him. It’s supposed to be a fun night with Clint, Scott and Sam. All night out with them, every single girl he talks with, Bucky suddenly fumbles. He looks right into their eyes, blue, green, silver and brown, then he opens his mouth to say some witty pick up line he heard Natasha in the back of his head, and then he stammers. 

Bucky fumbles, apologizes and goes back to the others with his tail tucked between his legs. He’s not gay, but he looks at the blonde girl he’s talked to, and thought that she was pretty. She would have gone home with him if he asked, but Bucky knew that he’d get off just as well on his own rather than have her on top of him and moaning his name. But what bothers him the most, is that at that moment it even seems preferable to be alone. 

So no, he’s not gay. He’s just going home without someone at his arm. Without someone to kiss. Without someone to slide his hands under their clothes and in between their legs. 

He’s not gay, he really isn’t, and damn Natasha for implying. 

Annoyed and frustrated, Bucky takes another beer from his fridge and slams the door shut after. Bucky opens the bottle and goes to sit down in his couch, sinking down into the pit that he’s made for himself over the last three years and reaches for the remote. Nighttime TV is boring at best, and its own personal circle of hell at worst. This evening it seems to be somewhere in between. 

Bucky doesn’t really watch what’s happening in front of him. Instead he’s browsing through his phone on social media, trying to determine if there’s someone out there having a worse evening than he is. All he finds is various clickbait articles from the five facebook groups he’s a member of. 

Bucky drops his phone on his stomach and continues watching nighttime TV without really watching, and plays Natasha’s words over and over in his head. He’s never really tried, never really been that curious about being with a man because being with women was satisfactory enough, even if it was disappointing half of the time. 

But whatever, real life wasn’t like porn, and Bucky had learned that lesson already in his early teens. So what if sex wasn’t as great as porn made it seem? No one had sex that good. And it wasn’t as if he had been with someone long enough for the sex to become fantastic just because they’d been having it for so long. Vanessa had been his second longest relationship. Alright, maybe he had been quick to ask her to move in with him, but that didn’t mean that they had reached the peak of their sex lives. 

Bucky lets out a scoff as he thinks over Marla’s admission that she hadn’t thought he was attracted to her. She had been gorgeous, of course she had been. Bucky had found something beautiful in all the girls he had been with. They all had something. 

He finishes his beer and slams it down on the coffee table a little bit harder than intended, picks up his phone again and takes a breath. His finger hovers over the safari button, and eventually his phone decides that he must have been close enough because the app opens. 

“Fuck it,” Bucky mutters, taps the bar to search and begins to type. Within a couple of seconds he’s got an old list up with the top hundred hottest actors of the year 2018. He makes a face and starts to scroll down the list. Thinking that maybe, with a different mindset, that he might see something different. He’s never looked at male actors like this before. And maybe, just maybe if he tries to search for the appeal, he’ll find something. 

Tom Hardy is at the top of the list, which is something that Bucky can agree with. Tom Hardy certainly has something. Women want to fuck him, and men want to be him. He remembers the old myspace photos of the actor that surfaced when he was in college, of Tom with a hand down the front of his boxers and shirt behind his head. Of him naked on a bed, perching his ass in a round circle of glory on display for the world to see. Alright, fine, he can see the appeal in Tom Hardy. 

The next is an actor he can’t recognize, who apparently had a hit movie that year -- Jamie Dornan. He scrolls by faster than lightning, still scarred from that one ex who wanted him to come along to see that Fifty Shades movie. Ryan Gosling is far too pretty boy, and looks like a mannequin with the same damn expression in every photo. He keeps scrolling, not understanding why a kid from One Direction makes it on a list that’s supposed to contain grown ass men. And actors! Bucky’s not entirely sure how he snuck into the list.

For a moment he’s confused when Tom Hardy makes it on the list twice (totally reasonable) before he realises that it’s a different actor by the name of Logan Marshall Green who might as well be his brother. There’s the blonde guy from Narcos which he binge watched, and who’s appeal he can totally see. And alright, fine, he supposes that the guy from Sons of Anarchy is also pretty attractive, and the Australian guy from Vikings. Not to mention that Matt Bomer from Magic Mike has pretty eyes. 

Bucky keeps scrolling down the list and goes to get himself another beer. All while thinking of Clint.

Clint is straight, he says as much, and everyone accepts that. Nobody gives him shit for it. But everybody knows about those two months when he and and that bartender, Luke, had a thing. That was everything  _ but _ straight, but nobody questions him on that. Just because that fling ended and Clint just shrugged and said, “Figured out I’m not into dudes after all.”

Bucky takes a drink of his beer and leans against his fridge. He presses the button that locks his screen and stares out in the dark kitchen. He  _ could _ do that too, nobody would judge him for it. Just once, just to shove it in Natasha’s face that he’s not attracted to men and have an actual encounter to back up his statement. 

Nobody would have to know. It could stay between him and whoever he chooses. 

It shouldn’t be that difficult to find someone, Bucky decides as he walks back to the living room, now having entirely lost interest of what was on tv. He’s a good looking guy, he shouldn’t struggle to find a guy interested in him. 

A quick google search tells him that the app he needs to get for something quick and easy, with no strings attached is Grindr. He downloads the app while he watches a bit of a Simpsons episode. It doesn’t take long, and when the app is downloaded, he looks at black icon with the yellow mask. 

“Nobody has to know,” Bucky mutters under his breath as he taps the app. His screen goes black, and the yellow mask comes in centre, disappears and then a yellow line traces its shape before it opens up. Rather than making it easy for himself, Bucky creates a new account from scratch rather than linking his Facebook to it. He uploads a picture that he’s content with, but also doesn’t give away that it’s  _ him _ instantly just in case he meets someone he knows on the app. 

He fills out his profile, and has to google what on earth the tribes all mean. With beer in hand, he goes to weigh himself on the scale in his bathroom, wondering why his profile wants to know that to begin with. Bucky’s a little bit too drunk to just ignore, and damn it, if he’s going to do this he’s going to do it right. He fills in HIV negative, and feels a little bit guilty at leaving the next question asking him when he was last tested, blank. 

The fact that it’s still prominent amongst gay men baffles him for a moment. He had lived under the sheltered thought that HIV was mostly around amongst sex workers and drug addicts. 

Bucky takes one last look over his profile and saves it. He’s then brought back to the now saved profile, taps back and sees the pictures of other profiles. There’s one or two blank grey outlines of faces, with no picture whatsoever. Some are just the torsos of men and some are pictures of them doing something, one Bucky sees, is more of a canoe than the man who’s in it. In the midst of all those, there are pictures of men’s faces, smiling away. 

Feeling his courage falter, Bucky locks his phone and spends another minute watching Simpsons. The idea of finding someone in the app is a little bit daunting, even when he had diligently mentioned that he was straight in his own profile, and just looking to experiment. He had wanted to be that upfront. 

His phone lets out a soft drum and lights up, letting him know that he’s already got a message waiting for him. He’s thinking of how the notification sound is rather enjoyable as he swipes his phone open to take him to the message. A picture loads, and below it a text. Bucky’s eyes widen in horror as the first message he receives is from one of the faceless strangers and it contains a dick pic. The text below reads,  _ willing to try this out? _

“Oh my god!” Bucky exclaims, and backs out of the conversation so fast that he nearly spills beer on himself. “Jesus fucking christ,” Bucky curses and closes the app, not enjoying the surprise that had been thrown in his direction. When his phone drums again moments later, he’s almost scared to open it, while he’s silently saying an apology for the handful of times he’s been the sender of such pictures. 

To his defense however, he  _ was  _ in a relationship with the women but… he’s learned quickly it’s a gnarly experience. 

The second message he receives however, turns out to be a bot asking him if he’s interested in an escort service and leaves a link for him. He’s happy to learn that he can delete conversations without actually being in them. He just swipes the one that had sent him the picture away, and hopes that it’s the last ugly surprise that night. 

The third message is from a man in his sixties asking him if he’s looking for a good experience. Bucky removes that conversation as well. The fourth is a downright filthy message involving both bondage and body fluids, that one gets a reply back however -- Bucky questions the man what his mother must think of him before going the extra mile and blocking him. The fifth is yet another dick pic, and the sixth gets angry at him for not responding within the minute.

By the time that he gets the seventh message, he already feels emotionally scarred, and a little angry. Bucky takes a big sip of his beer and opens it, preparing for the worst. Instead, he finds it’s the best message of the night. It just reads  _ How are you doing this evening, gorgeous? _ with a kissing smiley next to it. Bucky can live with that. He looks at the message for a little while, thumb hovering over the text bar and not quite sure of what to type in response. 

Instead, he taps his way into the profile of the mystery man, and Bucky is glad that he has a picture that gives him a good idea of how the other looks. He’s blonde and square jawed, bright blue eyes and a happy smile. Pretty muscular, and leaning against a stone wall. Someone else must have taken the picture, Bucky realises, and he looks… he looks like a fucking model. 

Captain, as his profile says, is supposed to be twenty-eight as well, a little bit taller than Bucky and definitely heavier. He doesn’t bother to look up what the tribe he’s in means and is happy to see that Captain is HIV negative, something that Bucky has already decided he finds important. Bucky backs out to the conversation again and types away. 

_ I was just starting to lose hope, you’re the first kind message I’ve received this evening. _

It takes a little while before this Captain responds, and it’s just a series of laughing smileys. Followed quickly by a different message, informing him that Grindr can be a cesspit sometimes. Bucky snorts at that statement. “Yeah no kidding,” Bucky mutters under his breath. He finishes his beer and gets up to get another one. 

He types back to Captain, telling him how it’s the first time ever that he’s signed onto the app and that he was beginning to question his life choices, which Captain seems to find incredibly funny before sharing his compassion over Bucky’s shock. 

For the next hour, all that Bucky does is respond to messages from Captain while watching television without really watching. He gets about half a dozen of messages from other people on the app, but those he ignores completely while he waits for Captain to respond. He’s funny enough, makes the right sort of jokes that make Bucky chuckle. He learns that Captain’s real name is actually Steve, and that Steve teaches art classes for hobbyists in the evenings, and works in an art store during daytime. 

Steve is also polite, and every question that Bucky asks him, he asks him in return. So Bucky reveals to Steve that Bucky is a nickname, but that he hates his real name, James. He tells Steve he works as an accountant, which he’s not happy with but it pays the bills. It’s not exactly like there’s a lot of jobs laying around for meteorology. All he had to do really was to take an additional couple of classes. Through all the boring facts of his life that Bucky tells him, Steve remains happy and alert, or at least it seems so over a chat. 

It’s a little bit of a surprise when Steve is the one to make the move, to address the elephant in the room and frankly, when Bucky sees the message typed up so neatly on the screen of his phone, he doesn’t quite know what to do with it. 

_ So do you want to meet up? I could come over? _

It makes Bucky’s throat go dry as he looks at it, and swipes his thumb over the screen in an attempt to clear off fingerprints. It’s nearly midnight, and Bucky’s a little bit surprised that it was this easy. Somehow, some part of him had expected more small talk, going back and forth with one another for a couple of days and figuring things out before hooking up with someone. He places his beer bottle against his lips and pauses. He’s perhaps a little bit to drunk for this, perhaps it’s best for some other time, and he feels how he’s already talking himself out of the idea. 

If not now, with a seemingly nice guy who isn’t all to bad to look at, then when? He’s got time until Steve makes it over. Enough for him to have a big glass of water, brush his teeth and fix his hair a bit. Maybe even change shirt as the one he’s wearing smells of smoke and bars. 

He’s not gay, he really isn’t. But for tonight nobody has to know. And that’s the point of experimenting right? 

So he sends Steve his address, and closes the app. 

 

\--

 

Bucky gets a buzz at his door. He lets Steve in. Taking his final couple minutes of being alone in full action, he does a quick run over of his apartment, clearing away an empty beer bottle. Bucky checks his shirt. His mouth feels minty after just having finished brushing his teeth, and he’s regretting not having drunk more water. It’s been forty minutes since he’s given Steve his address, and frankly he doesn’t know why he’s putting in this much effort. A desire to come across as a collected adult perhaps. 

His hand is already on the door handle when there’s a quick rap of knocks against them. Bucky opens the door to see Steve.

“Hi,” Steve smiles brightly. He looks exactly like the photos, something that Bucky had started to doubt. It must have been a recent photo, from that summer, because with a quick gaze he can’t find anything that doesn’t match. He has the bright blue eyes, he has the shining white smile and Bucky can tell under the black jeans jacket and the shirt that he’s wearing that he’s every bit as muscular as the picture had shown him. 

“Uhh... hi?” Bucky takes more than a moment before his brain kicks in action and reminds him that he’s been spoken to. Steve raises an amused eyebrow at him. “Hi, hi sorry, uhm, come in.” Bucky takes a step back and opens the door for him. Steve steps inside and past Bucky, a waft of a cologne, smelling like rich wood hits him. 

“This a shoes off place?” Steve asks, pointing down to his feet and turns to look at Bucky, not stepping out of the hallway area. It takes him a moment to realize what Steve’s saying as Bucky shuts the door again, deciding to leave it unlocked for now. It’s creepy right? To lock the door the moment a stranger steps inside? Bucky’s not entirely sure. 

“Yeah, yes, please,” Bucky nods and takes his chance to slide past Steve when the other is taking of his shoes. “You want a drink?” Bucky offers, stepping into the living room to dig out his scotch glasses.  _ He _ needs a drink, so much for sobering up.

“Sure!” Steve calls out from the hallway, and Bucky takes out a second glass for Steve as well. He puts them on the coffee table and fills them up with the only whiskey that he’s got on offer. He puts the bottle down once he’s finished, and with his drink in hand he pulls himself up on the couch. Steve comes in a moment later, and now Bucky can give him a proper look over. 

He’s wearing dark grey jeans, a white shirt with the sleeves rolled up to just below his elbows, there’s a bracelet with a charm around one of his wrists, and Bucky spots the same sort of charm around his neck. The socks with black, bright blue and white stripes seem oddly out of place on him, but somehow it strikes Bucky as adorable. Steve bends down to take the drink from the table. “Thanks, cheers.” He raises his glass, and Bucky does the same. He’s uncertain of the etiquette of what happens next. One night stands in bars are much easier.

Steve takes a look over Bucky’s living room while he sips of his drink, pauses to look at the books in the shelves which are mostly leftover textbooks from college. He stops at a framed picture of Vanessa and Bucky can feel the shame rise in him. “Girlfriend?” Steve asks and points with his thumb at the picture of Vanessa in sitting Bucky’s arms in Central Park. Steve looks a little uncertain at that.

“Ehh, no. We uhh. She broke up with me like two weeks ago? I haven’t really, gotten rid of all her stuff yet,” Bucky tells him earnestly. Even if it doesn’t matter, it’s just experimenting, it’s just one night at the most. So really, why should a stranger get involved in his romantic life? Still, Bucky finds himself  _ wanting _ for Steve to believe him. 

“Ahh.” Steve lets out, sounding as if he’s been in the situation himself a million times before. But he visibly relaxes, and so does Bucky when he realises that Steve  _ does _ believe him. He watches as Steve makes his way around the coffee table and sits down in the couch, pulling one of his legs up and looks at him with those bright blue curious eyes. “You’re nervous.” 

Bucky chuckles at that and looks down to the drink in his hands and nods a couple of time. “Alright, alright yeah I’ll admit, I’m a little bit nervous.” Bucky’s quiet for a moment, and Steve seems to realise that there’s more words weighing on his tongue, trying to figure out a way to express themselves. “It’s just that… a week ago I wouldn’t even have considered doing this you know?” He casts a sideways glance to Steve, who nods understanding. 

“It’s alright, don’t be nervous,” Steve says and reaches out to Bucky’s shoulder, making him flinch a little before giving him a comforting squeeze. “We don’t even have to do anything, just say the word and it’s off alright?” 

Bucky nods quickly a couple of times and takes another sip. Steve’s heavy hand slides of his shoulder. “So. Meteorology, I know fuck all about meteorology, tell me about it?” Steve asks and winks at him. Bucky takes a breath, and he begins to talk. 

Bucky talks for a good fifteen minutes while he’s having his scotch, explaining the basics of what he studied for Steve in a simplified version. Steve’s a good listener, attentive and asks the right questions to keep Bucky going for another couple of minutes. It’s not until he’s finished talking that he realises that Steve had made him relax. Before long he’s actually laughing at something that Steve says. He doesn’t even flinch when Steve puts his hand on Bucky’s thigh. Bucky’s feeling pleasantly buzzed again by then, the tips of his ears feel warm, and Steve’s hand is big and comforting, especially when it slides towards his inner thigh. At some point during his talk Steve put away his drink, and Bucky hadn’t even noticed. 

“Did you think about how you wanted to do this?” Steve asks him on a voice that’s almost a whisper. He scoots a little bit closer to Bucky, and feels how Steve drapes an arm around his shoulders, fingers touching him lightly. Bucky shakes his head in response. 

“No, no not really? I guess I just…” Bucky makes a gesture with his hand, as if that would explain everything. Steve seems to understand however and takes Bucky’s drink from him, leans over to the coffee table and puts it beside his own. What  _ had _ he expected when he had sent Steve his address? The thought had never even crossed his mind. 

“Just thought you’d go with the flow?” Steve fills in helpfully. Bucky nods and looks at Steve. He’s confident that his eyes have that glassy shine to it. But it makes him feel better when he spots that Steve’s cheeks are a little flushed as well, and now when he gets to see Steve so much closer he’s struck by how beautiful the man is in his own way. 

“Yeah,” Bucky breathes out to him, noticing all of a sudden just how long Steve’s eyelashes are, and the shape of his lips, how the corner of his mouth just twirls up the slightest bit in amusement. Steve’s hand is on his neck now, thumb gently stroking his jaw. He can almost feel the heat radiating from Steve’s body as he’s inching closer. Bucky leans back, just that little bit and twists towards Steve almost in instinct, rather than leaning back to get away from him. 

Steve’s lips are soft against his own and taste faintly smoky after the whiskey. It’s an innocent kiss at first, light and gentle, giving Bucky every opportunity to pull away and change his mind. He doesn’t. Instead Bucky places his hand on Steve’s chest. Steve offers him the chance to push him away, all while Bucky gets to feel the strong muscles under his shirt. 

The grip on his neck is growing stronger, more confident now as Bucky kisses him back rather than pushing him away. Steve takes control over the kiss, and Bucky isn’t entirely sure on who is the first to part their lips for the other. He can’t really think when he feels Steve’s hot tongue against his own in his mouth. Steve’s nose brushes his cheek lightly, and Steve lets out a soft little noise in the back of his throat. He sounds pleased. 

Bucky trails his hand from Steve’s chest up his neck, feeling the soft skin under his fingertips. He moves his hand to the back of Steve’s head and keeps him in. Steve makes that soft noise again and shifts in Bucky’s couch, turning more towards Bucky and urging him further up. Bucky does so, clumsily and Steve follows in his track. Steve’s hand feels heavy and and warm on his side, sending something deep and primal through Bucky’s body. 

Maybe it’s the alcohol that’s making it hard to think, or maybe it’s the heat from their kisses, but Bucky traces after Steve’s lips when they break apart for one second without much thought. He hooks his finger at the leather necklace that Steve has around his neck and pulls him back in, and keeps him right where he wants him to be. 

Steve leans in and gives Bucky just what he wants. Steve kisses him deep and hungry, pushing Bucky up against the armrest of the couch. Bucky lets out a little gasp when he feels Steve’s hand suddenly under his t-shirt and on his bare skin. Steve pulls away a little bit, their noses brushing one another as he looks into Bucky’s eyes, waiting to see if he calls an end to it. Bucky doesn’t, but just looks into those bright eyes of Steve who are so attentive, and so… oh. 

There’s green in them. 

Steve presses his lips to Bucky’s again and lets out a little sigh. Bucky’s eyes fall shut and he relaxes to the touch that initially caught him off guard. It’s odd in a way, Steve’s hands are much larger and rougher than any hands that have ever touched his skin like that. Yet the touch is still gentle, caressing him lightly with a thumb as it pushes his shirt further. 

The cushions of the couch shift a bit underneath Bucky when Steve pulls himself fully up on the couch and comes over him. He feels the roll of Steve’s hips against his own and Bucky lets out an unwilling moan at the sensation of it. Shit, he hadn’t even realised he got hard. He hadn’t even realised that Steve is as well. The movement makes heat pool in his abdomen, leaving him hoping Steve will do it again. Steve does without Bucky ever having to ask for it. 

The hand slides to the small of Bucky’s back, lifting him up carefully and easing him into place. Steve pulls away, and his hands stroke down Bucky’s sides, grip his t-shirt and pulls it off. It’s a bit of a struggle, and Bucky’s hair falls everywhere when they finally get it off. The bun that he had used to tie his hair back is now starting to fall apart. Steve, so considerately, pushes his hair out of his face before he kisses him again. Bucky finds his hips move towards Steve rather involuntarily, and his jeans are beginning to hurt now that he’s aware of his hardon. 

Bucky takes Steve’s hand in his own, and lets out another moan when Steve’s tongue meets his again. He’s being made to lay down on the couch again. Steve lets out another content little noise at the back of his throat and it’s dizzying to hear. He feels Steve’s hand ghost his chest, feels how Steve takes one of Bucky’s nipples in between his fingers before sliding that hand to the back of his neck and kisses him as if he’s trying to suck the last bit of life out of him. 

Then Steve’s lips are all over his neck, teeth scraping in soft gentle little nips, followed by the deep and almost heavy pressure as Steve tries to suck a mark in his neck. Bucky lets out a little chuckle and lets Steve, tilting his head back to allow better access for Steve. He’s  struck by how heavy his head feels, almost as if he’s sinking through the couch. He shuts his eyes and strokes his fingers over Steve’s blonde hair while he feels those lips and teeth work their way down to his shoulder, down to his chest. 

It’s when he feels the sharp sting of Steve gently biting at his nipple that he looks back to him. Steve almost looks devilish with it still in between his teeth, a little grin playing on his features as he looks up to Bucky. Suddenly, Bucky feels a lot more clear headed. Steve lets go, and comes up for a quick kiss that Bucky once more tries to chase as Steve pulls away. 

He watches as Steve sits up in the couch and rolls his shoulders. He licks now kiss-bitten red lips. Bucky bites down on his lower lip and he watches how Steve trails his hands down Bucky’s front, and come to rest by his jeans. When Steve starts to unbuckle Bucky’s belt, it feels like his heart is being dunked in ice, and it takes him a moment to realise just what Steve is doing. Hell, he doesn’t realise until Steve slides of the couch and to the floor, struggling with the button of his jeans. 

“Stop,” Bucky says so low at first that he barely hears himself and closes his eyes, his head almost automatically lolls back. “Stop.” Bucky then says firmer and shifts away from Steve, pulling Steve’s hands away from him. “Stop I…” Bucky doesn’t even know what he’s wanting to say, and Steve looks at him with an expression of concern.

Bucky shifts on the couch and Steve moves away, slides back a bit to lean against the couch while Bucky plants both of his feet on the floor, elbows on his knees and his head in his hands. He shuts his eyes and takes a deep breath. His head is feeling way too heavy now. He sits up before he lets that happen. 

“Are you okay?” Steve asks uncertain, and Bucky sees out of the corner of his eyes how Steve nearly reaches out for him, but pulls his hand back in the last second. Bucky nods a couple of times and  _ wishes _ that Steve had touched him. 

“Yeah I’m…” Bucky looks up and forces his gaze to the shelves in front of him, forces himself to read the names of three authors in his mind and finds that it’s quite hard with the names blurring one another out. “I… I shouldn’t do this. I’ve had too much to drink, I shouldn't. I’m sorry. I’ve wasted your time I went out and… I had a couple of beers with friends and I had some more at home and now that and… I’ve just had too much to drink tonight. I’m sorry. I don’t think this is a good idea,” Bucky rambles and gestures over to the two abandoned scotch glasses in front of the pair of them. 

Steve looks at the glasses in front of them and nods. Then back to Bucky and nods a bit, he seems a bit more comfortable now. But then he asks the dreaded question. “It’s nothing I did, is it?” 

“No.” The response slips out of Bucky before he even has a chance to consider it. He looks at Steve a soft smile, of course it isn’t Steve. The words of Vanessa play through his head,  _ it’s not me Bucky it’s you _ . It’s always Bucky isn’t it? It is him even now. “No it’s… it’s nothing you did, you’ve been… you’ve been very helpful?” he says and lets out a little chuckle at the absurdity of his choice of words. “Even if nothing really happened.” 

“Hey.” Steve now dares to reach out to him and squeezes Bucky on his thigh, Bucky looks at the hand with a dumb expression, and then to Steve. He’s smiling, and he looks genuine while he does. “It’s okay. You said go with the flow right? And if the flow ends here then the flow ends here, no questions asked. Besides. You kind of learn not to get your hopes up to much to much when you go home with someone straight.” Steve snorts a little bit, and Bucky laughs along with him. 

“Yeah… yeah I mean. I don’t know but… I can imagine,” he says softly. Steve squeezes his thigh again. 

“So don’t worry about it.” Steve pulls himself up on the couch beside Bucky. Bucky nods, and still feels a little bit sheepish about the whole ordeal. “You just, have some water and go to bed alright?”

Bucky closes his eyes and nods again. “Yeah, that’s probably for the best,” Bucky whispers and relaxes, admitting his defeat. They sit in silence next to one another for a minute, with Steve gently patting Bucky on his back and oddly enough, making him feel better about freaking out. Then Steve picks up Bucky’s shirt from the floor and offers it to him. He pulls it back on. 

“Think I could borrow pen and paper for a sec?” Steve asks and points over to the small desk in the corner of the room. Bucky nods and watches as Steve gets up from beside him and walks over. He fishes a piece of paper out and takes a pen. Bucky sighs and stands up, taking a second to get used to the sway and then stumbles to the kitchen. He finds the large empty glass that he previously drank water from in the sink and fills it up again. By the time he comes out of the kitchen, Steve is already in the hallway and tying his shoes, dressed in the black jeans jacket. 

“For you,” Steve says as he stands up, handing Bucky the piece of paper. Bucky takes it and squints at the numbers. “My number, in case you change your mind when you feel better.” Steve gives him a kind smile, places his hand on the door handle and is out of the apartment before Bucky can even stammer a thank you to him. 

Bucky closes the door after Steve and locks it, resting his forehead against it and holds the note with Steve’s phone number tightly in his hand. He shuts his eyes and sighs, trying not to think of how his dick is still hard in his pants. 


	2. Second base

No matter how hard Bucky tries, he can’t bring it to himself to look Natasha in her eyes. They’re halfway through the work week and so far he’s done a pretty good job of avoiding her. He knows it can’t last forever, but he has a sneaking feeling that the moment she looks into his eyes, she’ll know everything that he did this past Friday. 

He’s certain that she’ll know by just looking at him. That she somehow made an account on the app that’s been dormant on his phone since Friday and that she’ll know he invited a stranger to his apartment that same night. That she’ll know that they had a make out session on his couch and that Steve nearly had his hands in Bucky’s pants. That she’ll know that Bucky couldn’t get any sleep that evening until he had jerked off with the image of Steve’s devilish little smile and those blue eyes in his mind. 

Of course Natasha would know, because Natasha knows everything and it’s giving him a freaking ulcer. 

And not only that, but it’s making work unbearable. Mostly because his focus really hasn’t been on the numbers that he’s supposed to double and triple check, and he really hasn’t been in the mood to call people over and over and demand they send him the right papers for the fifth time over. So he’s tried not to think too much about it, but Natasha’s words have drilled their way into his brain like parasites, and Steve had been a wonderful participant in his own curiosity. 

There laid the problem, because at the end of the day, what did him kissing a guy really say? People kissed the same gender all the time and that didn’t make them gay. He felt frustrated with himself for not having gone through with the experiment properly, even if, in hindsight, it had been a good idea to send Steve home. He had gotten pretty drunk, drunk enough to moan to no one about a headache in the morning and spend most of the day in bed. His judgement had been pretty clouded. 

Now it wasn’t clouded anymore, and every single thought and decision he was making would be true to himself. Which meant… he really should give Steve a call, who had been so sweet and left Bucky his number. A number which Bucky almost instantly had put in his phone for reasons he didn’t quite know. He thanked his drunk self for that though, he had put the note that Steve had written for him somewhere and he still hadn’t found it. 

Bucky sighed heavily through his nose, and barely lifted his phone up from the table to see the screen light up and tell him that it was only two in the afternoon. He had another three hours to go before he could go home and hide in his bed from the world. 

“Hey Bucky,” Natasha said from her desk. He put his phone down and watched how she spun her desk chair around, papers in hand and stood up. He sighed through his nose again and looked to his computer screen again and pretended to be busy as the heels of Natasha’s shoes hinted to him that she was coming over to his desk. “Did you call the Galewski’s and ask them to send the papers in regards of their daughter. I still haven’t received anything.” Natasha sat down on the edge of Bucky’s desk and didn’t look up. 

“Every other day since she started college.” Bucky mused in response to her, clicking away on the program on his computer. God he hated his job, this wasn’t what he had thought he’d wind up doing when he was in college. He had at that point believed that he’d work for some newspaper in getting the weather right, then as smartphones had come along he had hoped he’d get a job for a freaking app. When even that had failed through Natasha had told him she could get him a job at the firm she worked for if he just did two courses. Having been searching for work for nearly three years at that point he had leapt at the chance. Two courses he could finish easily enough, and unfortunately he had. He had been stuck at the firm ever since. Sure, it paid the bills, but that didn’t mean he had to like it. 

“Mmm.” Natasha hums, then extendeds the papers she had brought to him. “Could you check these over for me? I feel like something’s off but I can’t see what. Been looking at them to long.” She says. Bucky takes the pages just as Natasha pushes up her glasses and pinches the bridge of her nose. He gives them a quick look over and does the math in his head. 

He taps one of her calculations and hands the papers back to her. “It’s off.” He tells her simply and turns his focus back to the computer. Natasha hums and looks it over, cursing under her breath before laying down the papers in her lap. 

“Is it just me or is today absolutely terrible?” Natasha asks. Bucky snorts in response and dares himself to look at her. Natasha looks at him, curious, but she doesn’t look smug. In fact, she doesn’t look as if she knows at all, and that makes him feel a little bit better about the whole ordeal. Just barely. 

“Today is absolutely terrible,” He confirms to her and lifts his phone up from his desk again, as if he’s hoping that enough time will have passed so he can go home. “Didn’t really want to leave bed this morning.” 

“Tell me about it.” Natasha yawns and slides off his desk. “I might go out tonight, enjoy a happy hour or something. Drink my sorrows away. You want to come?” She asks and quirks an eyebrow. Bucky looks at her, certain at first that it’s a trap. But no. Natasha looks oddly unknowing. She has no idea. The thought should relax him, but it doesn’t. 

“I…” Bucky looks at his phone again. He chews on his lower lip and decides  _ fuck it _ . “Give me a moment to think about it? I got to check something with someone first.” Bucky grabs his phone and pushes his chair back. She nods and heads back to her own desk while Bucky heads out of the offices and to the hallway, shielding himself from his coworkers and creating his own bubble of privacy. 

His finger hovers over the saved number in his phone, the big bold lettering above saying Steve. He sucks on his lower lip, and shuts his eyes. Trying to somehow rehearse what he’s about to say. He’s going to start with an apology for being drunk, he knows that much. Bucky knows himself, and knows that the longer he’ll wait with calling Steve the harder it will get. So he bites the bullet and taps the number. His screen turns black for an instant, and then shows that it’s dailing. 

It takes a couple of rings for Steve to pick up, and when he does Bucky is one second away from giving up hope. There’s a rummaging noise in the background, a radio is playing and Bucky can make out two other people having a conversation. “ _ Hello?” _ Steve sounds hesitant at first, on guard as if he expects a phone salesman or something. Then it occurs to Bucky that he probably comes across that way as he hasn’t texted or called. 

“Hi Steve it’s uhh. It’s Bucky? From this past Friday?” Bucky pulls a face, presses his balled fist against his forehead as if that will help him think more clearly. On the other end of the line, Steve is quiet for a moment. 

“ _ Oh yeah! Hi! How are you? Feeling okay?”  _ Steve asks him, and Bucky makes a noise. He feels rather terrible right now, but that’s not something you lay on someone who you barely know. Instead, he lets out a nervous chuckle. 

“I mean. I felt like crap on Saturday if that’s what you’re asking,” Bucky says instead. He hears Steve snort in response. 

“ _ We’ve all been there,”  _  Steve says, with a chuckle. There’s a door closing and the conversation that Bucky could vaguely hear dies out. He imagines that Steve locked himself up somewhere, creating the comfort of a quiet, silent space. 

“I guess so,” Bucky trails and pouts. “Listen, I want to say I’m sorry for how things went Friday. It’s… it’s not how I planned it and I swear, I didn’t mean to get like that on you. Drunk and all. Just… had too many after a rough week. Not that it excuses anything but-”

“ _ Hey,” _ Steve cuts him off, and obediently Bucky swallows his own tongue and falls silent. “ _ It’s alright, okay? Don’t worry about it, that shit happens. Besides, I’ve been through way worse, trust me, so that’s by far the worst experience I’ve ever had. _ ” Steve sounds bright and happy as he speaks, laughing at the end. Bucky feels a little bit better hearing him laugh. 

“Dare I ask?” Bucky asks with a small smile before realising that he’s had worse encounters himself. So yeah, maybe just getting too drunk isn’t the end of the world. It did calm him down that he was able to apologize for it though. 

“ _ Let’s just say it involved goats, a funeral, and someone wanting to have my used boxers and that’s about as far into it as I’m willing to go,”  _ Steve lets out that bright laugh of his again. Bucky is still trying to piece those three things together by the time Steve speaks up again. “ _ Anyway, what can I do for you?” _

“Uhm right.” Bucky clears his throat and changes his posture, as if standing straighter will give him more confidence. Fake it until you make it, right? “I was wondering if maybe we could meet up? I mean, just for food or something. Like, just have a chat. Not like a date or anything but just… talk? Does that make sense?” 

“ _ I guess? _ ”

“Let’s put it this way. I’m uh, I’m interested in uhh-hi,” Bucky smiles at a coworker walking past. “Sorry, I’m at work. But, let’s just say I’ve changed my mind? I’d like for us to sit down and just… talk about it first and such? Like, I don’t know, boundaries or something? Now when I’m sober?” 

Steve’s quiet for a little moment on the other line, and Bucky’s heart begins to thump in his throat with the incoming dread that he might have said something wrong. Even if he’s not sure what he could have said wrong in the first place. “ _ Yeah, yeah that makes sense to me. Just. Figure it out a bit more in depth than just go with the flow you mean?” _

Bucky lets out a sigh of relief that Steve seems to understand what he means and he nods to himself. “Yeah, yeah exactly. So I was wondering if maybe we could grab a bite to eat or something when I’m out of work? If you’re available of course.” 

“ _ Well, I’m off work at five, and I gotta teach a class at seven, but in between that I’m free if that works with you?”  _

“Yeah that’s fine, I get off at five too, so. So... like five thirty? Do you know a place?” Bucky asks and checks his watch, as if it really matters. Half an hour should give them both enough time to meet up on neutral ground. Then he can have dinner with Steve, a conversation about the whole ordeal and after he can see if he feels up to joining Natasha at happy hour. He might need it just to steady his nerves. 

_ “There’s a bistro that’s pretty good. I’ll text you the address. Just let me know if that’s too far or not. If I hear nothing I’ll just assume I’ll see you there at five thirty. _ ”

“Sounds good to me. Listen, I gotta go back to work now, bye. Thanks Steve.” 

 

\--

 

By the time that Bucky enters the bistro, Steve has already made himself comfortable in a booth all the way at the back. He’s smiling brightly waitress, who seems to be doing everything but taking his order. Whatever she’s saying, Steve finds it funny because he’s laughing by the time that Bucky makes it over to the table. He smiles awkwardly at the pair and slides into the booth in front of Steve. 

“Give us another couple of minutes, please? So he can have a look?” Steve asks and winks to the woman. She nods and bounces off, her pony tail swinging on the back of her head. Bucky is already looking at the menu printed on the table mat in front of him. “You look like you’ve had a shit day,” Steve says, amused. He takes a sip of his drink. Bucky chuckles a bit and glances up to Steve, as he  shoves his coat and rucksack in the corner of the booth with little care. 

“I hate my job,” Bucky says blatantly and looks back down to the menu, while Steve laughs. There’s nothing on the menu that sticks out. It has most of the regular bistro faire: sandwiches, some salads, a couple of pasta dishes, soups, a dish with fish and the obligatory steak with french fries. “No really,” Bucky looks back up again after he’s made his decision. “I hate it. I keep calling the same damn people to ask them to send me the same damn papers day in and day out, and then I keep having to call them back to remind them that they also need to sign said papers, because do you think they sign them? No chance in hell.”

“Well, at least the work day is over now.” Steve consoles him with a shrug and a small amused smile, almost as if he’s got another comment lined right up for Bucky to hear. Only he’s decided that they might not know one another well enough to let it slip. 

“At least it’s over, thank god.” Bucky laughs a little. Nerves mostly, but he hopes that it relaxes their whole meeting with one another. He’s not even sure how to broach the subject with him. What do they do now, have awkward small talk with one another? 

“I got to say, I was surprised when you called me, I didn’t think you were going to.” Steve breaks the ice instead, and he does so with a kind smile to Bucky. “What made you?”

“What made me call you?” Bucky asks again, as if to make sure that he heard Steve right. Steve nods and takes a small sip from his soda again. “I… I don’t really know myself, I guess? I mean.” Bucky lets out a sigh and strokes some of his hair behind his ear. “I was a little bit pissed with how I let things end. While I’m happy I stopped it cause… I was really drunk. But I felt like I wasted your time.” Bucky sees how Steve’s expression changes as he leans back in his seat, almost uncomfortable. 

“This has nothing to do with wasting my time, Bucky. It really isn’t. You’re not obliged to do anything. So you don’t have to call me because you think I could have gotten something out of the evening, alright? You drew a line, and I wouldn’t dream of stepping over that.” 

“I guess I should have said wasted  _ our  _ time,” Bucky corrects, and bites on the inside of his cheek. The words are out there now, weighing in between them. Steve raises an eyebrow, looking confused. “I guess I want to give a proper apology for how things went. And I do, I do want to… try. Stuff,” Bucky hesitates at saying the word experiment, it’s a family restaurant after all, and he’s not sure who might be listening. 

“Right,” Steve says, drawing it out a little. They both pause as waitress comes back and takes their order. Steve orders the minestrone soup with some bread, and Bucky settles with the steak and fries because he’s starving, and he didn’t particularly enjoy the lunch that he had brought to work. 

“Listen. It’s like this,” Bucky says once the young woman bounces away again. “A friend of mine, she recently told me a theory of hers, why all my girlfriends might break up with me. And she suggested that… you know, maybe I’m better off with a guy. I’ve never been with a guy before, ever. But she’s one of those annoying friends you see? She’s planted a little seed in my head. And now I won’t have any rest until I actually try it out myself, so I want to try, just so I know that if the conversation ever comes up again with her that I can honestly tell her, no, men aren’t for me. Or, alternatively, yes, men are something for me, maybe you’re on to something. Does that even make sense?” 

Steve looks a little too amused for Bucky’s liking. His eyebrow stays quirked up as he keeps his eyes fixed on Bucky. Almost as if he’s expecting him to crack and add something to it. It works, Bucky’s got to admit to himself, and he’s thankful that the young woman already is bringing him his beer so he has something to drink. “And… and I quite enjoyed myself that bit we had this Friday. You’re a good kisser,” He mutters under his breath, but Steve hears him anyway. 

“Thank you,” Steve says, and somehow manages not to sound smug when he does. “That makes sense. You want to be certain of what you’re going to say to your friend, and have the research to back up your statement.” 

“Yes. Exactly,” Bucky nods, glad that Steve managed to summarize it so easily, and doesn’t seem to think he’s too crazy for it either. Steve looks down to his drink with a small frown over his brows. as if he’s considering it. 

“Alright,” Steve says and nods, the frown disappears as he looks to Bucky with a sweet smile. “Alright, I’m fine with it. We’ll experiment a bit, well,  _ you’ll  _ experiment a bit, I’ll only help you out in this case. And besides, if you’re not into men you’ll figure it out pretty quickly. Most guys do, once they’re over their little wallow of doubt.”

“You… done this before with other guys?” Bucky asks, not sure if it’s a question he should be asking in the first place. Maybe it’s overstepping, but Steve doesn’t seem to mind. 

“With three guys, one turned out to be straight still, or maybe he just wanted a quick blowjob I’m not sure. The other two turned out to like men,” Steve says with a shrug. “Hell. Maybe you like girls  _ and  _ guys. Maybe you’re bi.” 

“Possible,” Bucky muses, although he doesn’t feel too comfortable thinking about it like that just yet. 

“How do you want to do this, have you thought about that? Do you just, want to meet up one day and.” Steve snaps with his fingers. “Or do you want to go with the flow, just see what happens when we meet up and take a more natural approach to everything?” Steve asks him. The questions stun Bucky a little bit -- he hadn’t thought about it. 

Steve gives him a moment when Bucky stares down to the menu again, not really looking at the text while he tries to make his decision. A part of Bucky wants to just get it done and over with, so Natasha doesn’t risk giving him an ulcer. How is he supposed to manage their jog and not tell her about it? How is he supposed to survive if she decides to bring the topic up again? Bucky could just tell her to shut up, because he’s trying to figure it out. But that would give it away, and that’s not an option either. 

Bucky sucks on his lower lip and looks up to Steve, who’s still so ever patient. He wonders if Steve were to suggest they head to his apartment right now, skip dinner and fuck in the hallway, if he’d be able to bring himself to say yes. That makes the decision for him. “I want to take a natural approach to it,” he says with a nod. It’s out in the open now, no take backsies. 

“Alright then.” Steve smiles calmly to him. “Natural, no pressure, no expectations, just… see what happens.” Steve confirms and smooths over imagined wrinkles in the air. Bucky feels a bit more at ease at that and nods a couple of times. 

“Just see what happens,” he confirms, and asks himself if he would have gone further with Steve if he hadn’t been drunk that night. If there had been no need for his consciousness to come up and interrupt the pair of them. If he would have let Steve’s hands with perfectly manicured nails to slide into the front of his pants and touch him. In a way, Bucky imagined, it wouldn’t be entirely unlike his own hand. 

“Exactly. Which now raises the real question,” Steve says and drums his hands on the table and looks over his shoulder. Bucky feels his heart skip a bit in sudden nerves jumping up into his throat. “Where the fuck is our dinner? I’m starving.” 

 

\--

 

Steve is… actually rather funny, Bucky learns. In the three days that’s passed since their dinner at the Bistro, Bucky actually feels a little bit relieved that Steve texts him about things that are not relevant to their little agreement, pact, deal? Bucky’s not entirely sure what he should call it to begin with. It’s not on his mind now, it’s not important. 

What amuses him more, however, is that Steve spends his day off by binging a show on Netflix that Bucky has already seen. Upon finding out a mutual love for season one, Steve is now texting his theories on season two to Bucky, his despair at killed off characters, and joy at new ones until he realises he hates them as well. Bucky can tell when Steve is getting close near the end of each episode, as he usually starts begging for Bucky to tell him what is about to happen, before following it up with a text not to tell him. 

But the best part, Bucky thinks as he’s responding to another row of emojis in despair, is that it doesn’t feel forced. Bucky genuinely is enjoying texting Steve, and it sure as hell is a perfect distraction from the job that he’s trying not to hate too much. So when Bucky texts Steve and asks if he wants to come over the next day and promises him that he won’t be getting drunk before hand this time, he feels relaxed about it. In fact, he doesn’t even feel the nerves about their upcoming meeting until Steve tells him that he could be there at about eight. 

Bucky tells him that’ll be great, and then is met with a fluster in his stomach that he can’t quite place. But tomorrow is good, he thinks, it gives him time enough to clean up his apartment a bit, and actually take down and put away every single thing that relates to Vanessa. Both for his own sake of mind, and for Steve, so he doesn’t have to stare at a picture of Bucky and Vanessa in the park. 

When he does clean up on Thursday, it strikes him that his apartment feels empty and without personality. The only books on his shelves are from his time in college, and he can’t remember the last time he actually bought one. It’s even been years since he even bought a comic last, which he had loved collecting and then had to put away because another girlfriend hadn’t wanted them out. So his apartment feels… eerily simple. For some reason he wants it to impress Steve, wants to show him that he does have personality that isn’t as bland as his white walls. 

In the end, Bucky tries not to think about it too much. Instead he watches the season finale of the show that Steve’s been watching, with Steve following it in his own home and texting through it. He guesses that Steve’s about a full minute ahead of him. But whatever, they have fun. 

Work the next day feels incredibly slow. Steve’s at work too, so his phone isn’t buzzing with texts like the day before. Bucky drags his way through work, and says no to hanging out with Natasha, Sam and the others. There’s the obligatory  _ oh come on! _ that Bucky works his way through, but they let him go with little fuss. Once home, Bucky eats, and then spends his time waiting for Steve to arrive. Which isn’t ideal, it gives him more than enough time to work himself up over something that really isn’t such a big deal. 

He plays a couple of rounds of Sudoku on his phone, scrolls social media for a bit and watches tv. By the time that eight in the evening rolls around, it feels like half a century has passed. The three minutes that follow until Bucky actually gets the buzz from Steve to be let up, somehow seem even longer. After Steve knocks on the door, he keeps his hand on the handle at first for a couple of moments, so not to seem too desperate, and then opens. 

“Evening,” Steve bounces in with a smile, and there’s something different about his hair but Bucky can’t place what it is. He’s already stripping out of his jacket and shoes. 

“D’you want a drink? I got beers in the fridge?” Bucky offers before stepping past Steve. No matter what he says, Bucky still wants one for himself. 

“Yes please,” Steve says from the hall, and Bucky takes two bottles out of the fridge, opens them both and brings one out to Steve, who by then has made himself comfortable on the couch. “Cheers,” Steve raises the bottle, Bucky clinks his against it and takes a sip before sitting down beside Steve. The whole situation has Bucky feeling nervous again. He can feel the tension in his shoulders from it, and wonders why he’s feeling so nervous in the first place. 

It really isn’t that big of a deal, Bucky tries to tell himself. But instead all he feels is nervosity. He’s not even certain  _ how _ he’s supposed to do things. Bucky likes to imagine that it’s something instinctive, but he knows from experience that not everyone gives excellent blowjobs, and not everyone is excellent in bed at  _ everything _ . So while the desire for it might be instinctive, how to react and act it out isn’t. 

And… he  _ likes _ Steve. He doesn’t like,  _ like _ him yet, but Bucky likes him, and for some reason he finds himself not wanting to disappoint Steve. He’s fun to talk to, they share interests. Even if experimenting doesn’t work out, Bucky would still like to be able to call Steve his friend. 

“Hey. Look at me,” Steve wakes him up from his little dream, Bucky hums and pulls his eyes up from his beer bottle and to Steve. Steve’s grinning at him, looking amused and happy. “You’re overthinking it. I can tell. It’s not a big deal,” Steve says with a chuckle. He squeezes Bucky’s thigh. Bucky laughs and shakes his head, feeling his cheeks heat up with embarrassment at the idea of being caught. 

“You’re right. I was just… Well. You know when you were a kid? And you were alone in a room with some girl or… I guess in your case it would have been a guy…?” Bucky pauses, watching Steve shrug a little and drink from his beer in response. “I was thinking it feels a little like that, when you’re a teenager and you’re in a room with someone, and you know something’s going to happen but you don’t know when, but you know you’ll walk away having done  _ something _ and feeling like a king because then you’ll have experience and suddenly you’re an expert on it because you’ve done it once. Yeah that.” 

Steve laughs at that again and nods. “Yeah, I guess it’s a little like that. And I guess this is where I give the little speech that says that we don’t  _ have _ to do anything?” Steve raises an eyebrow. Bucky rolls his eyes at him. “You’re still overthinking it though, it’s really not that big of a deal.” 

“I know I know,” Bucky sighs and tilts his head back. Then he pouts, deciding that he’ll be bold. He sits back up again and leans in to put his beer bottle on the coffee table, then looks at Steve again. Their gaze lingers for a while over one another, and Bucky shifts a bit. Steve turns a little to look at him, looking a little amused by the whole interaction. Then, Bucky just decides to grab the bull by its horns and goes for it. 

He places a gentle hand on Steve’s cheek, just barely feeling the stubble under his touch, and presses his lips against Steve’s. Steve gives him a moment, and he doesn’t react at first. Then, as Bucky barely starts to pull away Steve follows him with the kiss. It’s a short kiss, just enough for Steve to shift a little bit closer and blindly put his own beer away. When they break away Steve’s nose still brushes by his own. “See? Not that big of a deal,” Steve whispers to him. Bucky grins a little. 

“No, not at all,” Bucky whispers on an even lower tone in response, trailing his fingers up Steve’s muscular arm as he kisses him again. Glad that their awkward silence is broken, glad to have Steve’s lips against his own. He hadn’t imagined it while being drunk, Steve really is a good kisser. 

It’s a bit more dominant this time around, there are no more first steps to take. Steve takes control of the kiss and Bucky’s happy to follow. He lays back against the couch, and enjoys the weight of Steve’s body pressed against his own like that. In an odd way, he enjoys the feeling of not being able to move, of Steve’s broad chest covering his own, and his hips pressed against Bucky’s. Soon enough he will feel all of Steve.

“You tell me if it’s too much, okay? Just say stop like last time,” Steve mutters to him as he’s pressing kisses to Bucky’s jaw, against his throat. A grunt is all that Bucky can manage as response, and he chases Steve’s lips again, parting his own when Steve nips lightly on his bottom lip. Their tongues meet, and Steve’s fingers tangle in Bucky’s long hair again as he moves against Bucky, who lets out a groan in their kiss. There’s a wonderful bit of friction against Bucky’s cock with Steve’s grinding movement. He’s almost positive that Steve’s grinning in their kiss. 

So Bucky decides to give Steve something to remember him by. He pulls back and breaks their kiss, grinning up to Steve, his lips are swollen and such a wonderful shade of pink now. They’re irresistible, and Bucky presses one last kiss to them before he moves to kiss Steve’s neck. He nips at the sensitive skin, maybe a little too hard because Steve gasps in response, arching his back away from him for a moment. But the hand still firm and solid in his hair doesn’t pull him back. 

He licks his tongue over the spot, and Steve murmurs at that, a small shiver racing down his spine. Then Bucky kisses that spot again, before sucking at it, adamant to leave a mark on Steve, poking out from above his jacket as he walks down the street, a display for everyone to see that he had a good time. Steve gasps again at that, and ruts his hips against Bucky once more. It feels different now, and it occurs to Bucky that he’s not the only one with a growing situation in his pants. 

It surprises him a little. He had honestly thought that his hard-on the last time could be blamed on the alcohol he’d had. Now he hasn’t even finished half of his beer and he’s growing harder. He’s not certain what to make of that yet, how to interpret it. It’s something he pushes out of his mind and decides to ponder about later. 

He can’t remember the last time he got a semi from just making out on the couch. 

When Bucky is positive that he’s left a mark on Steve’s neck, he pulls away and finds Steve’s lips again, who ruts against him once more. This time they moan in unison in their kiss as their tongues meet, and Bucky moves along with Steve in a grinding motion to get more of the friction that’s just as wonderfully sweet as it is maddening. 

“You like doing that?” Steve asks, tugging Bucky’s head back with his hair, leaving a sweet sting over his scalp and a shiver as he feels Steve’s tongue drag from under his chin to his adams apple, and down his throat. “Leaving marks?” Steve asks, sounding amused before he kisses the hollow point at the bottom of his throat. He lets go of Bucky’s hair and slides his hand down to Bucky’s chest, taking a feel of Bucky’s pec. 

“Uh-huh.” Bucky nods stupidly in response to that. He’s grinning devilishly, even if Steve might not see it at that point. Steve moves back up again, bringing their lips back together while he drags his hand down Bucky’s front, slowly, but with enough pressure against him so Bucky is fully aware of it’s intend direction. His mouth goes dry at the thought. 

“Can I use my hand? Just my hand?” Steve asks softly, so careful and so considerate that it warms his chest to hear. Bucky nods his response before he even considers the question. The less he thinks about it, the better, and the sooner he feels  _ something _ on his dick, the better. Steve grins down at him, so bright and so happy and kisses him again. 

Steve’s touch sends a tingle through his abdomen when he drags his fingers over it. He dips his hand up under Bucky’s shirt and touches his skin for a moment, before continuing on its path back down and over his jeans. Bucky moans in their kiss when he feels Steve’s hand follow his cock through his pants, giving it a soft little squeeze, stroking him on the outside of his jeans. Bucky almost moves his hips up to the touch. 

Steve slides off him and down Bucky’s side, and Bucky instantly misses the heat and the warmth of him. How they both still fit on the couch frankly, Bucky doesn’t know, and at that moment he doesn’t really care. Because at that moment Steve’s hand is opening up Bucky’s jeans. He struggles a bit with the button, and Bucky reaches down to help him. Steve gives him a sweet smile for that, and gives him a gentle kiss as response. 

When they manage to open his jeans together, Steve brings his hand back up to Bucky’s neck and keeps kissing him. Deeply and slowly, it occurs to him that this is one of the most intimate experiences that Bucky’s ever had in his life. He turns towards Steve on the couch, the angle of his neck uncomfortable for what they’re doing, and wanting, but not quite daring just yet to just touch him. 

Still, he brings it to himself to move his hand down Steve’s chest, feeling the strong outline of muscles and mass under his clothes. Steve gives him a moment, and lightly trails his fingers down Bucky’s side before dipping down his hip, twisting his hand and sliding it in Bucky’s jeans. Now the only thing that’s between Bucky’s cock and Steve’s touch is the thin fabric of his boxers. 

Bucky groans, arching towards the touch in the hope of relief, wanting to feel more of Steve’s palm against the underside of his cock like that, wanting to feel how he traces him with his fingers. He shivers lightly at the touch, muttering a curse under his breath which makes Steve laugh a little. 

Steve strokes him like that a couple of times before he pulls his hand back out and hooks his thumb with the elastic band and tugs down a bit. “Lift up.” Steve whispers to Bucky, and he does. He allows Steve to pull down his boxers and jeans, freeing his cock to the warm air in between them. Steve kisses him again, and a moment later Steve’s tongue is back in his mouth. Bucky moans when he feels Steve’s fingers wrap around him and stroke downwards. 

Bucky breaks their kiss with his moan, moving up towards Steve’s touch and wanting to feel more. It feels so good, so perfect, and it’s all that he’s been craving ever since he first placed his lips on Steve’s. Steve’s touch is calm and calculated, he doesn’t rush it, he takes his time which makes it both painful and wonderful to Bucky, and leaves him wanting so much more from it. He shows his enjoyment with soft little moans and gasps, scraping his nails over the skin on Steve’s neck, over his still clothed shoulders and shivering under the touch. He can feel how it grows wetter as Steve strokes his thumb over the tip, spreading the precum that’s been gathering there and stroking it all over Bucky’s cock. 

“You’re so thick, look at you. I’m going to love sucking you one day,” Steve marvels before kissing Bucky again, hungrily so. It sends a jolt in Bucky’s stomach, the fact that Steve so boldly shows his admiration for his dick is wildly arousing. It instantly fills his head with images of Steve on his knees down in front of him, bobbing his head up and down and sucking at the head and -- Bucky moans again, moving his hips up to Steve again in attempt to feel more. Steve quickens his pace a bit. 

“Can I try something?” Steve whispers, breath hot against Bucky’s neck. Nudges his nose right to his ear and then lifts his head, nipes at Bucky’s earlobe so gently before he whispers again. “I want to jerk you off, and me. Same time. Mine against yours, just my hand, can I do that? It feels real good, I promise.” Steve licks down Bucky’s jaw and finds his lips again. When Steve kisses him once more Bucky feels both breathless and dizzy. “Can I do that?”

“Uhuh.” Bucky nods rather stupidly in response. He tries to picture it in his head, but the harder he tries the easier the image falls apart again when Steve strokes his thumb over the head of his cock again and suddenly it’s all Bucky can think of. He makes a pathetic little whimper. He nods again and swallows, feeling his heart pound away in his chest. “Yes.” 

Steve grins at him and gives him one quick heated kiss. Bucky whines in disappointment when he feels Steve’s hand let go of him. He reaches to help Steve, unzipping his zipper when Steve unbuckles his belt and rolls to his side again. Their kisses are quick, as if there’s an underlying fear of the other being pulled away any moment. Steve shifts on the couch a bit and tugs down his pants to his thighs. Bucky kicks down his own and pulls one of his legs free, hooking his calf around Steve’s to pull him in and keep him in place. Steve lets out a surprised but pleased noise at that, which only changes to a moan when Bucky, without thinking, reaches down in between them and takes Steve’s cock in his hand. 

Steve shudders and grips Bucky’s hair again, and in that moment Bucky doesn’t really care about the precum that’s been spread all over his fingers. It’s a problem for later. Stroking Steve Bucky realises quickly, isn’t that different from when he pleasures himself. And Steve, Steve sounds absolutely wonderful, little gasps and moans during their kisses. Their lips barely break away from one another when he makes those noises, trembling against Bucky. 

Finally, Steve lets go of Bucky’s hair and brings his hand back down. Bucky lets go of Steve’s cock and is almost pleased when he hears that Steve makes the same sort of needy sound as Bucky had. Steve takes Bucky back in his hand, giving him a few lazy strokes before he shuffles his hips closer. Then, Bucky feels Steve’s grip change a bit. The next thing he feels is Steve’s hard cock against his own, gently pressed together in Steve’s fist. 

It’s the most intensely erotic feeling that Bucky’s ever felt in his life. He tries to arch his hip up towards the touch and moans again, holding on to Steve’s arm as he does. With his other, he grips Steve’s shirt by his collar, clutching on to it. The friction feels amazing, and the idea that it’s another cock,  _ Steve’s cock  _ in Steve’s grip against his makes it all the more arousing. 

Bucky lets out a little whimper when he feels Steve slide a finger in between them as he moves his hand up and down, mixing the precum that’s been leaking from Steve with Bucky’s own over the pair of them. “Told you it’d feel good, didn’t I?” Steve whispers against Bucky’s lips. “God you feel so good against me doll. So good. Jesus,” Steve moans deeply, and Bucky feels the shudder in his chest from it. “Jesus I could feel you all day like this. You’re going to make me hard just thinking back on this I swear.” Steve chuckles deeply, pressing his lips to Bucky’s again, sliding his tongue back into his mouth as he tightens his grip a bit more. 

Bucky digs his nails in Steve’s arm, feels Steve pump his hand up and down once, twice, feels his index finger stroke in between them, giving them more friction that’s mind blowing. Steve pumps his hand up a third time and Bucky cums as a surprise. Moaning with Steve’s tongue still against his own, a deep feverish kiss and feels the heat that’s been pooling in his body finally break out through his pores. Feels how his own cum hits up against his shirt, spreading over Steve’s hand and how he pumps it down again, spreading him over the pair of them. 

“That’s it doll, that’s it look at you,” Steve murmurs to him, his voice deep and dark and sounding so filled with lust that it almost seems surreal. Bucky is still shuddering, hips still wanting to twitch to the touch, shivering and just barely coming down when Steve stops breathing for a moment. Against his leg he can feel how Steve tenses up. Then with one deep moan Bucky feels how Steve cums as well. And he looks beautiful. 

Steve’s eyes close with the moan, his mouth dropping open to a wonderful O, a pink flush to his cheeks matching the colour of his lips. He lies perfectly still, until he reaches the end of his orgasm and breaks out in a shiver. Bucky feels a surge of pride. He had a hand in making Steve feel like that.  

When Steve’s finally spent, Bucky strokes his fingers up from Steve’s arm and to under his chin, tilting his head up a little bit and giving him a soft kiss. Steve lets out a tired hum and lets go of them both, slides his hand up Bucky’s hip and then down his back, pulling him in close against him. Bucky doesn’t protest, he does the same over Steve’s shoulders. 

Bucky dozes, almost. He rests his head on the pillow of the couch with his eyes closed and takes a deep breath. Just listening to Steve’s breathing slow down, feeling goosebumps break out at the featherlight touch of Steve dragging his nails up Bucky’s back. At that moment time seems timeless to Bucky, he’s not sure if they’ve only rested for a minute, or an hour by the time that he feels Steve shift against him and press a soft kiss to his forehead. 

“You got a towel or something?” Steve whispers on a low tone, still frightened to break the quiet bit of heaven that had draped over them. Bucky makes a noncommittal noise and pulls a bit away from Steve. He moves his arm from around Steve’s back and behind him, feeling the rug under his finger tips before he dares to slide off the couch rather than fall. 

“I’ll get something. You uhh.” Bucky looks at the mess down his front, and remembers his hair. He touches the side of his head where Steve had his grip and looks at him. Steve’s popped up his elbow underneath him and rolls himself on his back now when there’s space in the couch again. There’s cum on his shirt, staining it. His cock is now laying flaccid up against the bush of dark curls, and Bucky suddenly feels bashful and looks away. “You want another shirt or something?” Bucky asks without looking at Steve, hoping that the other can’t see the pink blush that he feels spreading. 

There’s a rustle in the couch, and then Steve rests back down again. “If I could borrow one that’d be great,” Steve responds. Bucky nods and pulls off his jeans fully from his other leg and decides fuck it. It’s Friday evening, he’s not going anywhere anymore and Steve’s seen him now in a whole other scenario, so he really shouldn’t be ashamed about wearing sweatpants in front of guests. 

“I’ll get you one.” Bucky gets up from the floor and heads over to his bathroom. He’s just running one of his washcloths under the tap when he hears Steve join him at his side. He wrings it out and passes it over. Steve takes it and Bucky repeats himself with another washcloth. He walks into the bedroom as he’s cleaning himself off and just tosses his shirt to the floor. 

By the time that he comes back out in a fresh shirt and a pair of sweatpants, Steve, now clean, sits awkwardly on Bucky’s couch. He looks just as muscular as he feels, and frankly Bucky envies him a little. The lines on him are clear, unlike on Bucky himself who sometimes finds that he just looks blown up. He hands him a plain black t-shirt. “I don’t really own a lot of colors,” he apologises without really knowing why. Steve shrugs and pulls the shirt on without a further complaint, and Bucky tries to look away to give him some privacy. 

“It’s alright,” Steve smiles up to him, the shirt sits a little bit loose over his shoulders which surprises Bucky. Then, Steve swings his legs back up on the couch and pats the spot beside him. “Come here. I tossed the towel in the laundry basket in the bathroom, that good?” Steve asks him, and Bucky, without thinking, is already trying to find a spot on the couch beside Steve. It feels like he’s about to fall off until Steve wraps both of his arms around him and supports his back, and Bucky makes a content noise when he feels Steve toy a bit with the hair at the nape of his neck.

“S’fine,” Bucky mutters and closes his eyes, settling his cheek against Steve’s chest and both hears and feels Steve’s heartbeat. It hits him all at once, the intimacy of their whole arrangement and just how nice Steve’s embrace feels, and it occurs to him that he’s never been held like this before. “This is nice.”

“Mm, it is, isn’t it?” Steve says with a pleased little hum, and while Bucky can’t see his face he imagines how Steve’s features curl up in that sweet smile of his. Moments after that he feels the soft press of Steve’s lips to the top of his head again. “Did you like that?”

The stupidity of the question makes him snort. “I think the evidence was pretty overwhelming that I got my rocks of,” Bucky tells Steve, and feels how the laughter bubbles up from Steve. It makes him smile the moment he hears the sound, and he places his arm around Steve’s waist, carefully daring himself to slide his fingers under the black shirt. “It was pretty hot.” 

“It was,” Steve agrees with him and Bucky feels a squeeze on his shoulder. “I love doing that, it’s one of my favorite things. Makes what starts as a regular handjob a lot more intense. Lot more closer, too.” For a moment Bucky considers asking Steve what they did just was called, before he realises that he can’t bring himself to do so. The same sort of childish embarrassment washes over him despite his curiosity. Bucky finds it ridiculous. Here he’s too embarrassed to ask what the name of the act he just participated in is called. 

“Hey Steve?” Bucky asks, deciding to derail his thoughts and rest his chin to Steve’s chest and looks him right in those blue eyes. Steve raises his eyebrows a bit to indicate that he’s listening, and gently caresses his cheek. “When did you know? You know, that you’re gay.” 

“Oh.” Steve blows out some air and casts his eyes up to the ceiling. “I’m not gay actually. I’m bi but with a preference for men. I’ve had girlfriends before,” Steve shrugs a little. “Suppose that doesn’t really answer your question, does it?” He smirks a little. Bucky finds himself returning that smirk and shakes his head. Steve leans in a little and presses a soft kiss to Bucky’s lips that he finds himself returning instantly. It’s light and soft, and so  _ so  _ different from the previous kisses they’ve shared. No, those weren’t kisses anymore, Bucky thinks, that was down right making out, deep and filthy, and he had enjoyed it.

“Well,” Steve continues, only to pause again when he tries to think back. Bucky watches him attentively, sees how Steve retreats in himself to find that particular box of memories to open. When he finds it, Steve’s smiling. “I was like, sixteen, something around that age. High school age you know? And uh, I guess I really should have known. I was a weird kid, skinny little thing, you wouldn’t believe it looking at me now. But it was the era of punk rock in the late double zeros you know? Proper little fight-the-establishment thing that broke out in an asthma attack when I got wound up debating other kids in school.” 

Steve laughs at that, and Bucky finds himself smiling at the story. Steve continues. “Now, there was this other kid in my class. Complete opposite of me in a way, I mean, he was also fight-the-establishment but he was rather quiet, didn’t really talk to a lot of people. Tough home situation. And there was this event for school, you remember how high schools throw those stupid damn dances all the fucking time? Neither of us had any dates. Well, I think he just didn’t try to find one and I didn’t find one out of protest, but still went to the stupid thing cause I wanted to be involved. We sat on the benches in the back together, watching everyone else having fun and drinking fruit flavoured punch,I may have poured a little vodka in it.” 

Bucky laughs at that, pressing his forehead against Steve’s chest for a moment. Steve strokes the back of his head and continues the little tale. “The vodka made me daring, and as I was ranting on about the establishment or whatever bullshit I was spouting on at that moment, he was looking at me. Always listening to what I had to say. I looked at him at some point and it just struck me how pretty that he was. So I leant in, and I kissed him. It was like, watching a meteor shower you know?”

Bucky says nothing at that, and tries to remember if he ever had that feeling himself. Kissing Steve had been like a meteor shower, no -- it had been more than that. It had been a planet made out of diamonds sparkling in sunlight. His first kiss had been a bundle of nerves, anxious to get it done, anxious to get it right. He supposes that counts. “I guess,” Bucky shrugs a little and looks back up to Steve. 

“We dated for about a year after that. He had to move away for his dad’s work eventually; they moved to Colorado. We tried the whole long distance thing for a little bit, but I guess teenagers aren’t really made for that. We drifted. But he had taught me I liked guys as well,” Steve finishes his tale, his fingers stroking softly up and down Bucky’s back. 

“Must be nice, to just be confident in yourself and just know,” Bucky says. Steve gives a little shrug, and leans in to give Bucky another little kiss. 

“Not everyone knows instantly, don’t beat yourself up over it,” Steve comforts him and rests his head back again with a small, mysterious little smile that Bucky isn’t certain how to interpret. Then he stops stroking Bucky’s back and brings up his wrist to beside Bucky’s head and checks his watch, then drops it again. “I should get back, it’s pretty late.” 

“You can stay,” Bucky blurts out before thinking. He doesn’t want Steve to leave, not really. Now when he’s feeling more relaxed again he likes just talking to Steve. He doesn’t have to walk back home in the late evening if he doesn’t want to, and Bucky hopes that he takes him up on the offer. “Just, you know, to sleep. We can hang some, watch some crap on tv, have a few more beers. You can sleep on the couch if you want to,” he says, feeling equally nervous as hopeful. Not wanting Steve to get the wrong idea. They already had one intense moment, he’s not quite sure he can handle a second in the same evening. 

“That’s sweet,” Steve smiles at him, kissing him once more. Just a light peck against his lips. “But I should get back. I gotta get up early in the morning, got an art class to teach and all that. Need to prepare some stuff. Thanks though,” Steve explains. Bucky feels something sink in his gut, but he nods. 

He climbs off Steve and stands up. Steve grabs his shirt up from the floor and stands up as well. Quietly padding out to the hall with Bucky at his heels. Neither of them speak when Steve pulls on his jacket and steps into his sneakers. Bucky just watches him with his arms crossed against his chest, trying his best not to let his disappointment show. 

Steve flattens out the jeans jacket a couple of times and then looks up to Bucky with that bright smile of his. He seems to hesitate for a moment, then he steps in and gently places his hand on Bucky’s cheek and gives him a kiss. It’s both light and sweet, but feels filled to the brim with what Bucky hopes, thinks, and feels is adoration. “I’ll see you again soon?” Steve asks, sounding so hopeful that it makes Bucky feel a little bit giddy. Here he’s the one disappointed Steve has to go, and there Steve is, being the one worried that Bucky would be satisfied and wouldn’t call him again. 

Bucky bites a bit on his lower lip and nods. “Yeah, yeah of course. Sunday?” He suggests on a whim, finding that his heart flutters in anticipation. Steve visibly brightens in front of him, all insecurities just falling off him in an instant. 

“Sunday’s good, I got no plans then. I’ll uh, call you?” Steve suggests and Bucky nods again, bringing his thumb up to his lips in a nervous movement and bites on it. 

“I’ll be here to pick it up,” Bucky says, before laughing and realising that it sounds like he’s got no plans, no life, nothing to keep him occupied. Just sits on his couch and waits for Steve to call. Steve gives another nod and leans in again. That kiss is a little deeper this time, with a playful edge to it. Bucky doesn’t want it to end, but Steve pulls away and winks to Bucky before he opens the door. 

“Hey Steve?” Bucky asks and steps forward, putting his hand on the door handle and leaning against it as Steve steps out into the hallway of his apartment building. The nerves in his stomach are back again, but fuck it, he wants to know. Steve turns and raises his eyebrows to indicate he’s listening again. “That thing we just did. What’s that called?” Bucky asks, fully intent on taking his old laptop to bed and browse the world of internet porn when he goes to bed. 

“Oh. Frotting.” Steve winks to Bucky, then turns down the hallway and walks away. 


	3. Third base

“ _ What the fuck do you mean you’re not joining us? Jesus Christ, Bucky it’s been like a month since you went out with us. Listen, I know you’re having a crisis about nearly being thirty, but we’re not that old yet. You can still hang out with all of us at bars, you know? We’re starting to forget what you look like, _ ” Natasha says, sounding annoyed over the phone. The sharp tone doesn’t bite on Bucky at all as he slides into his chair and pulls himself up to the desk. He takes his glass of water and drinks. 

“You’re being dramatic now, stop it,” Bucky says, putting it back on the table, his hand moving right back to the computer mouse and kicking his computer back to life. The screen blinks from darkness back to the website he had been on. “You saw me at work today, you have not forgotten what my face looks like.”

“ _ You haven’t been out with us in forever -- you used to always join.  _ You _ complained when someone didn’t tag along for one week. One! Now we’re complaining about you being gone for five, the others are questioning your existence. Come out and get drunk with us,”  _ Natasha pesters him. Bucky rolls his eyes. 

“Can’t. I’ve got plans, I’m meeting someone tonight,” Bucky mutters in response and clicks back to Google, not satisfied with the article that he had found. Hell, it didn’t even read like an article. These wasn’t the sort of tips he was after. Even he knew that it helped to be enthusiastic when giving a blowjob, and enthusiasm he had, he just wanted more practical tips. Thanks Cosmopolitan. 

The other tips were just as useless, he thought. He had figured out that position mattered, and yes, hands were a nice touch, and not to forget the balls. Hell, he loved it when people did it on  _ him _ , he sure as hell wasn’t going to forget it when giving one himself. Maybe he was overthinking it a little. At the end of the day it wasn’t rocket science. Bucky just liked to look up facts on everything. It was who he was as a person, he couldn’t help it. 

Natasha huffed over the phone, the sound making Bucky smile a little in response. He scrolled further down the Google results page in hope of finding a website that could be a little bit more helpful. “ _ Who are you meeting, did you meet someone?”  _ Natasha asked, derailed for the moment on this new bit of information that Bucky had chosen to divulge. 

“Sort of, I guess? It’s nothing serious,” Bucky told her, clicking another link and let the website load. He figured it was close enough to the truth. Sure, they were just experimenting. Well, Steve was getting his rocks off and Bucky was experimenting, getting bolder for every weekend and every evening they had spent together. So it wasn’t quite serious, hell, they weren’t even a thing. It was just fun. 

Fun enough to make him curious enough about sucking dick to make him Google the technicalities behind it. He chuckles a little bit at the thought. “So just let me have this alright? It’s working out, so far.” Bucky brushes a hand through his still damp hair and glances down to the clock at the bottom right of his computer. Only a little past six. He told Steve he was going to be at his place around seven. He still needs to get dressed, and catch a train, take his time searching around in the area. He would like to know where to go with some sense of confidence. 

Shit, now he also needs to blow dry his hair. Bucky minimizes the window to Google Chrome and decides that he’ll follow his gut feeling and just try to figure it out on his own. He’s certain that Steve will give him instructions if he needs any.

Natasha hums in response. “ _ Do I know her? What’s she like?”  _ Natasha asks just as Bucky turns off his computer and gets up from the chair. His desk is in the same room as his bedroom, so he just pulls open the dresser and digs out a presentable t-shirt and a pair of black jeans. 

“You don’t know them, listen, we’ll talk about this tomorrow alright? I gotta get going if I want to make it in time,” Bucky tells her and steals another look in the mirror. His hair is looking a little bit too poofy for his liking already. Maybe he could just skip the blow dry and tie it back like this. Keep it somewhat in control for the night. 

“ _ Alright alright, but you’re joining us next week. Good luck, Bucky.” _

Bucky rolls his eyes and hangs up on Natasha without even bidding her goodbye. He’s confident that she does the same and tosses his phone to the bed. It’s not like Steve and him are a item. They’re just having fun with one another in more ways than one. You don’t need any luck for that. 

Bucky spends the next twenty minutes getting ready. He ties his hair back in a bun and ignores it after that point. He dresses in the clothes that he picked out, only to change his mind about the t-shirt and swaps out the belts. Bucky’s fussing more about his looks than he otherwise would. 

When Bucky finally admires himself in the mirror, he feels pretty content with his dark grey slim-fit jeans, and a shirt from a heavy metal concert he attended a few years back, adding a splash of colour to his otherwise dark outfit. He pulls on his jacket, grabs his phone, keys, and wallet and leaves his apartment. 

 

\--

 

Steve’s apartment is bright and colorful and it doesn’t surprise Bucky in the least. The hallway alone is proof enough about Steve’s inner artistic soul Bucky thinks, in the one second he gets to admire it before Steve’s already leaning in and kissing him. Bucky grins back in their kiss. Steve pushes the door shut behind Bucky, and then pushes him up against it. Bucky places both of his hands on Steve’s neck, and feels Steve’s on his hips.

When Steve pulls away, he takes a second to nudge their noses against one another. Bucky loves the soft sensation of it, and doesn’t quite bother to open his eyes just yet. “Hi,” Steve whispers before giving him a small peck and pulling back. Steve looks like he wants to say something more, but he doesn’t and pulls away. Bucky doesn’t pester him about it, and gives him one last kiss before he starts to strip out of his jacket. Steve steps away. “I’m making tacos for dinner, that okay with you?” 

“Steve, I love tacos,” Bucky tells him and watches how Steve’s smile lights up. Bucky hangs up his jacket on the coat hanger and notices that there’s a wide variety of colors hanging on them. At least three jackets, one black, one bright blue and one in a soft yellow tint. There’s also two hoodies in different colors as well. The walls of the hallway are a deep maroon red and the floor is dark wood. Bucky takes off his shoes. Steve leaves him to go back to his kitchen, or at least Bucky assumes that’s where he’s going. 

Steve’s apartment is like a well-used paint palette. There is no consistency or thought through his interior decorating. Instead it just seems like Steve has gathered and collected bright and colourful things for years and not really caring what works together and what doesn’t. Yet, Bucky finds as he wanders into the living room, that it works really well.

There’s one desk in the corner that’s pushed up against a bookshelf, filled with books about contemporary and antique art. Big-picture lexicons of flowers, insects and animals. Modern architecture, comic book art throughout the world and concept art books of some movies he recognizes. There’s at least three different makes of coloured pencils, which Bucky assumes are all different. Water color paints, oil, acrylic and some that Bucky didn’t even know existed. There’s rulers and scissors. Pieces of fabric, a needle cushion and some rolls of thread. A mini-mannequin and a model of a hand. 

The desk is littered with a bunch of grey drawing pens, a bright flower pot that contains more of them, ballpoint pens, a couple of brushes and one bent knitting needle. On the desk Steve has a big medical book on human anatomy open, showing in full detail the muscles in the back of a woman. Beside it, there’s a large sketch of a woman with her back towards Bucky. She’s resting on a rock, and underneath her is a wonderfully detailed fish tail that makes Bucky think of those colourful betta fish. 

That nook of Steve’s apartment alone makes Bucky think of every single art classroom he’s ever been in, and somehow it’s the most fitting room Bucky can think of for Steve. He turns, and spots the other corner of the apartment where Steve’s got a sectional couch in blankets and pillows. His television hangs up on the wall and underneath it a tv stand that’s filled with dvd’s, blu-rays, and a gaming console that he doesn’t bother to check out. Posters and frames of artwork are hung up in no logical order or style, just wherever he had space it seems. 

The rug on the floor is one of those thick and fluffy ones, a deep pink that somehow works well with the dark green couch. Bucky turns again, observing the last corner of the of the room and spots more bright green. A terrarium. 

Bucky moves over to it and bends down a bit to look into it. It’s filled with green plants, both in and under the water. The bottom is filled with pebbles, and at the far left corner of it is a couple of bronze coloured rocks. On top of those, right underneath the lamp is a bright green turtle relaxing, blinking lazily at Bucky before it turns it’s head a bit and shows the red stripe just behind it’s eyes. “Cool turtle,” Bucky says and stands up straight again, before leaving the room and heading towards what he guesses the kitchen. 

Steve’s apartment, Bucky decides quickly, is, despite being smaller, much more exciting and by far more cozy than his own. He heads into the kitchen where Steve is and sits down by the table. 

The counters and the appliances are all bright white, but Steve fixed that easily enough with a bright red table and blue chairs, and every single glass and plate that Bucky can spot is coloured or dotted. On his fridge he’s got magnets of Super Mario, that he’s used to build out his own little course with. Steve looks at him with a wide grin, still cutting the tomatoes. Bucky afraid he’s going to cut his fingers. Steve doesn’t. “You meet Tortellini?”

“Tortellini?” Bucky asks with a huff of laughter and nods. “Yeah, I guess I met Tortellini,” Bucky admits with a grin and rests his chin in his hand. Steve turns back to cutting the tomatoes and Bucky feels instantly calmer. Now the risk of them having to drive to the ER because Steve cut off a finger is down to zero. Almost zero. “Why the hell did you name it Tortellini?”

“I got her for my eighth birthday from my mom. And when I was eight I just, really loved tortellini, thought she looked like one so it was the perfect name. Still is if you ask me.” Steve looks back over his shoulder to Bucky. His smile is so bright and genuine, that Bucky can’t doubt Steve even if he tried. “I love Tortellini. She’s been with me for twenty years now.”

“She must be old then?” Bucky asks, curiously. He doesn’t know the first thing about turtles. He just knows the difference between a turtle and a tortoise, and that’s about it. Biology had never been a field of interest. And with his sister’s and father’s combined allergies there had never been talk of any pet in the house growing up. Bucky had hated that. He had always wanted a dog. Now, he just pure and simple didn’t have enough time for one. 

“Nah, I could have her for another thirty years, her kind gets to be like fifty years old when they’re pets,” Steve nods over to the living room and takes a step to the left to rinse off his knife. “She’s pretty funny though, she always has this look of constant judgement when people come up to look at her. Looks like at you like you’re a kid that’s been stomping on her begonias or something, nips if you try to pet her. Then if you offer her a treat she’s the friendliest turtle on the face of this blue earth.”

Bucky snorts. “I had no clue they could get that old.” He looks back out to the living room, wondering how intense the bond between a pet and an owner must be after caring for one another after fifty years. 

“They’re pretty amazing,” Steve says with a happy sigh, then opens the fridge. “I got us tomatoes, corn, bell peppers, lettuce and cucumbers for the tacos, that okay?” Steve asks and takes out the lettuce and cucumber. 

“Steve, I said I love tortillas I really don’t care what goes in them that much.” Bucky chuckles, and barely manages to catch the orange bell pepper that Steve tosses over to him. 

“Help me and cut that then. You’re better at peppers than I am,” Steve orders him. Bucky snorts in response, remembering the way Steve had butchered the peppers at his apartment until Bucky had taken over. Thirty seconds later Bucky’s been handed a cutting board, a knife and is set to work. They talk while they prepare for dinner. Bucky shows Steve his trick when it comes to cutting peppers and is offered a beer as thanks. Once all the vegetables are in their respective pots and the oven is warming up, Steve tells him to go and carry them out to the living room and to pick a movie to watch. Meanwhile he’s rummaging through his spices to find his taco spices. 

Bucky does as he’s told and relocates the bowl in the middle of the coffee table to the tv stand to make more space for their food. When all the pots with vegetables are placed out for them, Bucky kneels down in front of the tv stand and looks through Steve’s collection with movies. Most of them he’s seen already, but at the far back he finds some that seemingly have been untouched for quite some time. With a little bit of digging he gets them out. In the kitchen, he can hear the hamburger frizzle in the pan as Steve starts to cook it. Spices now in hand, he imagines. 

Bucky looks at the covers of the movies in his hand, and for a moment is stunned at what he sees. He wasn’t certain on what he was expecting, but he knows it wasn’t this. In his hands, Bucky finds himself holding old black and white versions of horror movies. He’s holding Frankenstein and Psycho, The Invasion of the Body Snatchers and What Ever Happened to Baby Jane? There’s an old version of King Kong in his hands and Dracula, House on Haunted Hill and Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. Then, he finds the one which he considers to be made out of pure gold. 

“No fucking way.” Bucky grins as he holds up the original Japanese Godzilla, and settles instantly that they’re watching that one. He stuffs the other movies back in the stand and puts Godzilla on the table. He scrambles back to the kitchen, with Tortellini not even giving him the slightest attention. “You got the old Godzilla? Can we watch that?” Bucky asks in the doorway as he looks at Steve, sounding hopeful and excited. It might not have been the sort of movie that Steve had been planning for the pair of them, and he hopes that Steve will approve of the choice. 

“Huh?” Steve looks at him confused for a second and stops stirring the hamburger in the pan. “Oh, oh, yeah I do. Collected them when I was a teen. Sure, I guess we can watch that, I haven’t seen it in ages.” Steve grins a little and turns his focus back to cooking. 

“Yes,” Bucky hisses under his breath, bounces up to Steve and stops himself from kissing Steve on his cheek in an instant. Instead he bites on his lip and looks to their food. Should be done within the minute, he figures. “I haven’t seen it in ages either. I mean, I love those sort of movies, the big giant monster ones? The stupider the better. I remember that one being particularly corny.” 

“It is pretty corny,” Steve laughs in agreement. “Wanna open the tortilla packet? I’ll heat them up then, this should be done soon. You can get the movie started in the meantime, if you want. Just leave it on the menu, yeah?” 

“Yes sir,” Bucky says, and once more does as he’s told. 

 

\--

 

The movie is just as bad as Bucky remembers it. He loves it, if possible, even more. Still, they have fun. They pause it halfway through to clean up the dishes and shove the small bowls with vegetables in Steve’s fridge. Steve salvages what he can for the next day and Bucky helps himself himself to another bottle of beer. Steve doesn’t seem to mind. 

When they relocate back to the couch, they both sink deep into it. Suddenly overtaken with a food coma, they grab two blankets and each tuck themselves in. Bucky stretched out on one half of the corner couch, Steve on the other with a blanket pulled up to his shoulders. Steve rested his head in Bucky’s lap. Bucky put one arm behind his head for added support. His free hand moves to toy with Steve’s hair as they watch the last bit of the movie. 

Neither of them speak as they watch how disaster unfolds in Japan, following the monster walk its way through a much smaller Tokyo than there is in the present day with corny music. By the time that the movie is finished and Godzilla is seemingly killed (at least for that year, for as far as Bucky can remember the sequel came out the year after), the food coma has pretty much had its way with them and Bucky feels a little bit more awake. 

Steve reaches out for the remote with a lazy stretch, punches the large button up on the front and turns the television off. With a noise, Steve tugs up his blanket to his nose and turns on the couch, blinking up to Bucky. He sees how the corners of Steve’s eyes wrinkle up when he smiles, and Bucky finds himself smiling in return.

“Hi,” Steve mumbles through the blanket. 

“Hi.” Bucky responds and strokes his hand to Steve’s shoulder, letting it rest there. “Did you like the movie?” 

“I did,” Steve stifles a yawn, then rolls onto his back and stretches out across Bucky’s lap. “I’m going to have that tune stuck in my head for the next month though.” He breaks out in a giggle after, Bucky laughs along with him and nods in agreement. 

“You’ll carry that tune with you down into your grave. They’ll lower your coffin and the people coming to the funeral will just be looking at one another. Confused and all  _ what is that? Do you hear that? _ It’ll be the theme coming from your coffin. Freaking people out from beyond the grave,” Bucky teases Steve, who breaks out in a fit of giggles. Bucky thinks the sound is so wonderful that he strokes his hand down Steve’s front, to his stomach and down his side, where he tickles him. 

Steve lets out a shriek of laughter and squirms away from the touch. Bucky grins as Steve just turns to hide his side against the couch, which leaves his other fully vulnerable. So he reaches for that one and continues to tickle him. Steve’s screaming with laughter, squirming and trying to get out from underneath his blanket which is tangled around his legs, trying to shield himself from Bucky’s hands while smacking them away at the same time. 

“Stop! Stop!” Steve begs, and Bucky, now also giggling from the whole ordeal, stops. Both because Steve is adorable, all smiling and red-faced and partially because he’s fearing revenge. The last thing he wants to do is kick Steve in the head by accident, which he knows he’s capable of doing if he gets tickled. Luckily, Steve doesn’t seem to be in the mood for retaliation and just sits up, still giggling and one hand pressed to his side. He kicks the blanket away and onto the floor. 

“You’re terrible. Awful. Mean. Worst person I ever met,” Steve murmurs with no hint of hatred, just playfulness. Bucky scoots up on the couch and over to Steve’s side, pressing a soft little kiss to Steve’s cheek, which he seems to appreciate. 

“I’m sorry,” Bucky mutters against Steve’s skin without really meaning it, and kisses him again. Steve turns his head after to meet the kiss. 

“No, you’re not,” Steve whispers, turning his body slightly towards Bucky. Something he takes advantage of and shuffles a little closer again. He smirks a bit, pressing down on the couch with the palms of both his hands and leans in again, pushing Steve a bit back. 

“No. You’re right. I’m not,” Bucky silences Steve again with another kiss, now more focused on Steve, rather than the movie they watched, or the tickling war. Steve makes a little sound of delight as Bucky pushes him back against the couch and slides his arms around Bucky’s shoulders. He had mentioned just the previous weekend how he’d enjoyed that Bucky was starting to grow more confident, more bold in what he was doing, and with that, how he had become more dominant. 

Bucky pushes against Steve until the other is laying down, nestling himself in between Steve’s legs and feels how he keeps those muscular thighs around his hips, hooking his legs around Bucky to pull him in. Bucky puts one of his hands on Steve’s hips, and strokes it up the other’s thigh, copping a feel of the strong body underneath his palms. Steve makes another sound, a little different this time -- more interested. 

Bucky feels how Steve strokes his hand down Bucky’s chest, down his front and slides it under the shirt, touching his warm skin and the muscles of his back. Bucky breaks their kiss, and starts planting little ones on Steve’s jaw, down his neck and throat where he lets his teeth nip at the soft sensitive skin. 

Steve lets out a heavier breath, and in a smooth movement Bucky grinds his hips against Steve,  which make him groan a bit. Bucky can feel he’s already sporting a semi in his jeans, and wants nothing more than to feel more of Steve against his cock. How a sensation like that can feel so different from when a girl does the exact same thing still boggles his mind a bit. All Bucky knows is that he wants it, and that the pleasure is pooling in his stomach, warming him up and making his clothes feel entirely unnecessary. 

“You got anything-” Steve swallows. “You got anything you want to try today?” Steve asks, catching Bucky’s lips again. Steve grinds his hips against Bucky’s, and this time is met with the same in response. They work well together. Steve groans softly in their kiss. 

“I do,” Bucky reveals to Steve, pulls back just enough to see Steve’s eyebrows raise a little, see how his eyes grow darker as his pupils dilate, sees how those perfect teeth bite down on his bottom lip in such a naughty little way. 

“Oh?” Steve asks, stroking his hand up Bucky’s back, then to his chest and down his front and feels the muscles. Muscles he’s been working harder to maintain now ever since starting to see Steve. Who he’s gone to the gym for now twice, and sometimes thrice a week rather than just once. Bucky knows that in just one month it wouldn’t have done much difference, but he likes the idea of his ass being firmer for Steve whenever he makes a grab at it. “What’s that?”

Bucky grins at Steve, for some reason he can’t quite explain he feels ridiculously proud of himself. Of daring to take a step on his own, of showing initiative. He had been showing enthusiasm all the weekends and evenings they had spent together, it wasn’t about that. It was that all their previous meetings Steve had been the one to take the lead, and Bucky had followed him. Bucky felt proud over taking the lead for a change, for mentioning to Steve what  _ he _ wanted to try. 

“I want-” Bucky pauses, kisses Steve again and makes him tilt his head back a little, grinding their hips together again. Steve lets out a small whining noise. Bucky then presses his lips back to Steve’s neck, sucking at the soft and sweet skin for two seconds before pulling back, knowing well enough that he’s winding Steve up now. He can feel it right against him when they push their hips together. How Steve’s cock is a hard solid feeling in between the pair of them. 

“Want what?” Steve asks, impatient and eager to know more. Bucky grins a little and kisses him sweetly again, brushing his thumb over Steve’s jaw and grinds their hips together again. This time both of them moan in unison in their kiss. It occurs to Bucky that if kept going like this, it’d be very  likely that both of them would cum in their pants like teenagers. He knows he could. The mental image of that alone, and Steve below him like this, whining and needy, makes him make a mental note to try it next time they meet up. 

“I want to blow you, is that okay?” Bucky asks, a little out of breath from their kisses. Steve’s eyes widen as he looks up to Bucky. His mouth drops open, at the same time, a dark look from his eyes tells Bucky all that he needs to know. Next thing Bucky knows, Steve is nodding wildly. 

“Yes,” Steve swallows, nods again, his hair bouncing a little. It makes Bucky laugh, giddy with the excitement of being able to try out something new. Happy to see how much Steve’s looking forward to it. “Yes, that’s… yes,” Steve repeats again and laughs a little. “You really don’t have to ask.” 

Bucky smirks and presses his lips against Steve’s, softly, wanting to take his time and wanting to calm down Steve a little. But mostly to tease, definitely to tease. “I know. I wanted to,” Bucky muses to Steve, nipping at his lower lip. Steve parts his lips for Bucky, and welcomes a deeper kiss with a content sigh. 

Bucky doesn’t hurry at first, not feeling the need for it. He wants to kiss Steve a moment longer, and despite all his enthusiasm for it, he still needs to build up the courage. Steve, being as sweet as he is, doesn’t push and lets Bucky set the pace. 

All he has to do however, and Bucky knows this, is to just take one small step to get the ball rolling. So he pulls away from Steve’s lips for the last time, presses them against Steve’s neck, and then slides off the couch and to the floor. Steve looks down at him expectantly and shifts a little, placing his legs on either side of Bucky. He tugs his shirt up and over his head, tossing it into the corner in the couch. “Stop if you want to, okay?” Steve tells him, stroking Bucky’s jaw, brushing his thumb lightly over his swollen lips now. “There’s no rush, there really isn’t.”

Bucky nods in response and leans in, kissing the skin on Steve’s abdomen. He feels how the muscles twitch underneath the light touch, how Steve so desperately wants to arch his hips up towards him. Bucky strokes his hands over Steve’s thighs, and decides that while he’s pushing himself into something new, that he could stay in his comfort zone just a little. He runs his hand over Steve’s dick, fully hard in his pants. 

Steve groans a little, and Bucky grows to love the firm feeling of it in his hand even more. Giving a handjob he can do --  _ that  _ he’s got confidence in. That, he enjoys and that he’s succeeded in multiple times now.

Bucky shifts on the floor, repositioning himself into a more comfortable position. Steve’s fingers stroke gently up Bucky’s cheek right up into the soft strands of his hair. One more stroke, and then Bucky makes himself unbuckle Steve’s belt and open his jeans. “Up?” he asks, glancing at Steve while he hooks his fingers through the belt loops on either side of Steve’s hip. 

Steve lifts his hips a little, allowing Bucky to tug his pants down past Steve knees. He pauses for a short moment before deciding to just undress Steve entirely. He locks eyes with him for a moment. Steve’s grin is bright and excited. Bucky leans up to kiss that wonderful mouth of his, and wonders how Steve would look with his lips wrapped around Bucky’s dick. The thought sends a shudder down his spine. 

He takes Steve’s boxer briefs off as well and tosses them the same direction as he tossed the jeans. He wraps one hand around the base of Steve’s cock, the other pressing gently against Steve’s balls and watches how his head tilts back in a moan. 

“You’re going to have to talk to me, okay? Give me pointers?” Bucky says, feeling the insecurity hit again. At first, he isn’t entirely sure if Steve hears him, but then there’s the hint of a minuscule nod as Steve bites down on his lower lip. He looks down to Bucky again, locks eyes with him and nods again. 

“You’ll do amazing,” Steve encourages, and gets a desperate look in his eyes that Bucky can’t quite make sense of. Bucky grins as response, feeling his heart leap in his chest with a mixture of newfound courage and an ever growing sense of adoration towards Steve when he strokes his hair. 

At first, all Bucky does is let go of Steve’s cock, placing both hands now on his thighs. With one quick bold move he leans back in towards Steve’s cock and gives him just one experimental lick. “Oh,” Steve moans out at that and Bucky feels Steve take a tight grip of his hair. He looks up to Steve to see if he gets any critique on that. He doesn’t, instead all he sees is Steve’s expression, all blissful and happy. He takes that as a good sign. 

Bucky takes Steve’s cock back in hand, gently squeezing him before he takes grip of the root to keep him still. He licks him again, dragging his tongue all the way to underneath the head. Steve mouths out a curse and paws at the pillow beside him with his other hand. Bucky can’t stop himself from grinning at that point, taking more enjoyment than he’s willing to admit in seeing Steve enjoy himself so much. 

Bucky repeats himself a couple of times, licking up and down again on Steve’s cock, pressing soft little kisses along it and massaging his balls again. Wanting more and wanting to try more of it. Feeling immensely curious When he feels bold enough, he strokes his tongue over the tip of Steve’s cock, which is now fully exposed. The taste of a little bit of pre-cum that’s been gathering on it surprises him a little, but it’s nothing that makes him pull back. There’s a little hint of sweetness to it that he even wants to taste more. 

“Oh Jesus, Bucky,” Steve pants, lolling his head forward again to look at Bucky.  He’s got a stupid expression written on his face that makes Bucky chuckle. “You’re a fucking tease.” Steve bites on his lip again, almost as if he’s preventing himself from saying something more. Wanting to demand  more. The thought warms Bucky that Steve wants him to do more. And yet Steve stays quiet rather than ask a step of Bucky that he might not feel ready for. 

His pants start to feel tight as Bucky licks over the head of Steve’s cock. He becomes painfully aware of how hard he actually is. He rocks his hips into nothing, moaning softly at the way the shift of his jeans feel against him. Bucky strokes Steve’s dick with both his hands, brushing his thumb over the head again. He looks Steve in his eyes again. 

Steve’s looking at him as if there’s nothing else in the room worth paying attention to. All he sees is Bucky on his knees in front of him, cock in hand. Despite the bright blue of his eyes, Steve’s gaze is deep and dark. Steve’s eyes spill all the secrets of what he wants to do to just Bucky. The thought tingles in his stomach and he groans a little. 

Then, all while keeping eye contact still, Bucky takes the head of Steve’s cock in his mouth. Steve moans again, and there’s a little tug in Bucky’s hair. A sharp sting that passes just as quickly as it comes over him. He sucks at the head alone, all while still looking at Steve to judge his reaction. Steve, however, doesn’t seem to notice. His head falls back again and his eyes squeeze shut. There’s a mixture of a whine and a moan passing his lips, a sound so sweet that Bucky wants to hear more of it. 

“Fuck that feels good, Jesus,” Steve pants, his chest rising and falling quickly. The same surge of pride that Bucky felt earlier rises within him again, nestling in his chest and keeping him bold. He likes this, he realises. He enjoys making Steve feel like that, enjoys hearing him moan and enjoys the thought that Steve’s entirely at his mercy whether he gets it or not. 

The thought makes him rock his own hips again, groaning around the head when he feels the friction. Steve whimpers. Bucky pulls back just long enough to take a breath, stroking the base of Steve’s cock and rolling his balls against his palm, just like he enjoys it himself to see if he can coax the same sort of reaction out of Steve. It’s not the same reaction, it’s much, much more beautiful than that. Steve moans, arching a little to the touch and pawing at the pillow again, there muscles in Steve’s thighs are all tensed up, hard as rock. A faint shade of pink spreads over Steve’s chest and cheekbones, mouth dropping open a little as he groans. Steve strokes a hand over his own chest and brings a nipple in between his fingers. He twists it and another stifled groan escapes Steve, teeth biting down hard on his lower lip. 

In his enthusiasm, he takes Steve back into his mouth a little bit too quickly and perhaps a little bit too sloppily. He realises his mistake the same second as Steve hisses and lets go of his hair, placing his hand on his shoulder to give Bucky a light push away. “Teeth, easy,” Steve chuckles a little and lets go of Bucky’s shoulder. 

“Sorry,” Bucky mutters his apology with a soft little smile and takes Steve back in his mouth. This time calmer and slower, taking his time. He sucks at the head again and Steve’s hiss is forgotten quickly enough when he lets out another moan. 

“S’okay,” Steve mutters after moaning. His hand is back on Bucky’s shoulder and he gives it a squeeze. Not a sign to stop, but one of enjoyment. Wanting more from it all. Bucky lets go of Steve’s balls and strokes his hand up his muscled abdomen, feeling how they twitch under his touch. He slides his hand further up Steve’s chest. Bucky rocks his hips again and groans around the head, which makes Steve gasp just before Bucky traces a nipple in between his fingers. 

Then, Steve just reaches for his hand and pulls it away from his nipple. But he doesn’t let go, instead he locks their fingers together and keeps holding Bucky’s hand in a firm hold. Bucky pulls back again and licks his lips, then takes Steve back in his mouth and carefully, very aware of where he has his teeth, begins to bob his head up and down Steve’s cock. 

“Ohhh, oh fuck, Jesus Bucky,” Steve whimpers at that. The touch disappears from his shoulders. Steve squeezes his fingers tight and Bucky glances up just in time to see how Steve brings his hand up to his mouth and bites down on it to stifle a moan. His first instinct is to smile at that, and his momentary distraction of it has him bob his head too much over Steve’s cock, down his throat. His gag reflex makes itself known.

He pulls away and takes a deep breath, mostly out of surprise and Steve’s newly bitten hand is right back on his cheek again and strokes his cheek. “Easy, Buck, easy,” Steve reminds him, that stupid smile is still written all over his face, but there’s a hint of something else along it. Something softer, something more adoring as he watches him. 

“Good?” Bucky finds himself asking, despite the moans that he’s already heard, the reactions he’s already caused and coaxed out of him. It’s starting to become hard to think, in his pants his cock is aching for touch and friction. He’s unconsciously making slow rolling movements with his hips for some form of relief. Steve nods, his hair bouncing along with his enthusiasm. 

“Real good, Buck, real good. You’re doing great,” Steve tells him, stroking his thumb over Bucky’s lips. Feeling a little coy at that, Bucky lets the thumb slide past his lips and sucks on it. Steve’s mouth drops open as he watches. Now grinning, Bucky slowly pulls back until Steve’s thumb drops out of his mouth. 

“I like it,” Bucky comments before turning his attention back on Steve’s dick. Now feeling more stubborn, curious to see if he can get Steve to cum with his mouth alone or if he’d need more practice for that. With Steve’s dick back in his mouth, he bobs his head back up and down. Now keeping aware of where he has his teeth, carefully and bit by bit testing out on how far he can actually take it.

He licks around the head with his tongue. Pressing soft kisses to the underside of the head and watches how it makes Steve shiver. Bucky groans at the sight, then groans again at the sensation of friction in his pants. He lets go of the base of Steve’s dick, squeezing himself through his pants which only makes him whimper. 

“Keep going, please?” Steve begs, voice light and shaky. “Your mouth feels so good, please Bucky?” Steve asks him, breathless. Bucky, still eager, is happy to oblige. He strokes Steve a couple of times again and rolls his own hips into nothing. He takes Steve back in his mouth and moans around him when he feels the friction in his pants from another roll of his hips. Steve grips his hair again, harder than before which really means only one thing. 

“Not much longer now,” Steve tells him with another soft moan that turns into light laughter. Bucky can tell how the muscles in Steve’s abdomen are twitching now, a giveaway that he learned only last weekend. He moans at the thought of what’s to come, moans at the idea of Steve cumming from his mouth alone and sucks, putting the best of his newly-learned skills into it. 

“Oh fuck, that’s a amazing, fuck I-  _ ah,” _ Steve moans, there’s a tug at his scalp again from when Steve pulls his hair, but it only makes Bucky moan around Steve. Steve whimpers, moving one of his legs up just a little. He lets go of Bucky’s hair and grips his shoulder again instead, squeezing hard. Bucky glances up to him and sees the pink flush over Steve’s cheeks, his hair is a mess and he’s biting down hard on his bottom lip. “Fuck Buck I’m gonna, I’m gonna-” Steve never manages to finish his sentence, but Bucky gets the hint. 

Not feeling  _ that _ bold yet, Bucky rolls his hips one more time and pulls back and away from Steve. Enjoying the little sound that his lips make when he pulls away from Steve’s cock and strokes him instead. He sets a hard, fast pace to push him over the edge. “C’mon Steve, c’mon sweetheart cum for me,” Bucky encourages. Steve grip over Bucky’s hand turns so hard that it feels like he’d crush the bones in them. Bucky rolls his hips again just as Steve cums. 

He spills over Bucky’s hand, all thick and sticky. Bucky slows down his touch, groaning at the sight, and groans as the wave of pleasure washes over him. His hips make one last twitching movement forward, and part of Bucky gives way. He moans, deeply and shakily as his own orgasm washes over him from not a single touch. Just the sight of Steve alone and the knowledge that he made Steve cum with his mouth alone. Steve’s chest is rising and falling with panting breath, a hand is in that wonderful mess of a hair and the other is still holding their hands together. 

Bucky watches him, sees how Steve returns back to earth and leans in. He lets go of Steve’s cock, and licks up the string of cum that’s gathered on Steve’s abdomen. Steve swallows at the sight and watches him with dark eyes as Bucky licks at his skin. It tastes saltier than the precum, but the twinge of sweetness to it is still hidden underneath. When Steve’s skin is licked clean, Steve lets go of Bucky’s hand and takes the other, whose fingers are still covered in Steve’s cum and have yet to be cleaned. Just like Bucky had done moments earlier, Steve licks them clean, all while never looking away. 

When Steve’s done, he gives Bucky’s hand a light tug to pull him up. Bucky moves obediently, happily meeting Steve’s lips for a deep kiss. He feels how Steve moves his strong arms around Bucky’s back. “Did you like that?” Steve asks on a soft whisper when he pulls away, lips still touching one another. Bucky grins and nods in response. 

“I, uhm.” Bucky begins, feeling the flush of heat come up to his cheeks. “I came in my pants.” Bucky mutters on a low tone to Steve, who doesn’t react at first. When he does it’s the sweetest giggle that Bucky’s ever heard, and his heart leaps when he gets another kiss. 

 

\--

 

Steve’s sweats are the most comfortable pair of pants that Bucky’s ever worn in his entire life, and he’s never giving them back. Steve let Bucky borrow a pair when they had finished cleaning up. He’d instantly pulled them on and loved the way that the soft grey fabric felt against his legs. Once Steve had gotten changed too, into a pair of pajama pants and a shirt, he’d come back out to join Bucky again. 

They put on another movie to watch, this time Steve’s pick -- Dracula. Steve had crawled up onto the couch beside Bucky and pulled a blanket over them both. Leaving them both now content on the couch, spooning one another. Bucky was laying behind Steve, an arm around his waist and nuzzling his nose to the back of his neck, only watching the movie with half-hearted interest. 

Under the blanket, Steve had taken Bucky’s hand in his own and was squeezing it from time to time. Each time that he did that, Bucky pressed a kiss to the back of Steve’s neck and smelled the scent of the other man’s hair. “I’m happy I came here today,” Bucky muttered against Steve’s neck, smiling a little to himself. “This is cozy.” Bucky squeezes Steve a bit tighter around his waist, and feels how Steve shifts one of his legs to accommodate this.

“It’s nice, isn’t it?” Steve whispers back to him on a low tone. Bucky feels how Steve’s thumb strokes over the back of his hand. The silence falls heavy over them, and once again Bucky gets the feeling that Steve wants to say something more. A feeling twisting and turning in his gut to ask Steve what he’s thinking about. 

“What are you thinking about?” Bucky finally asks, deciding to break their silence and let his curiosity to be satisfied. He glances over to the television and can’t make out what is happening or even at what part of the movie they’re on. In the terrarium, he spots Tortellini making her way down her rock and into the water. Steve doesn’t respond to his question at first, but instead sighs deeply. Bucky shifts a little to look at him, sees how Steve’s eyes glance up as he thinks. The looks makes Bucky smile, and he presses a light kiss to the corner of Steve’s lips. They twitch upwards. 

“Nothing in particular,” Steve says, turning to face him. Bucky senses that there  _ is  _ something weighing on his mind, but decides not to push the truth out of Steve. He leans in and kisses him again, and Steve tilts his head a bit to improve their angle. 

“Okay,” Bucky whispers against Steve’s lips, wanting to set him at ease, wanting Steve to know that he’s not going to dig and pry into private thoughts. At that, Steve looks grateful. Bucky kisses Steve again, and this time it’s more playful. Steve shifts again on the couch, pressing Bucky more to the back of it as he turns onto his back. One hand strokes it’s way up and into Bucky’s hair. Not gripping it, no tugging, just brushing his hand through the soft strands of hair now that Bucky’s undone his bun. The brown strands slide over Steve’s hand and down, tickling Steve on his cheek which makes him giggle a bit. 

It’s a wonderful sound. Bucky feels the steady drum of his heart beat in his chest as he hears Steve laugh. It makes Bucky grin with pride before he presses his lips against Steve’s forehead. Then on the bridge of his nose, then the tip of his nose, and finally finding Steve’s lips again. They kiss for a moment, then when they break apart Bucky rests his forehead against Steve’s and sighs. Bringing his hand up to Steve’s neck and strokes his jaw with his thumb. Steve lowers his hand out of Bucky’s hair and takes hold of his wrist. 

“I should go,” Bucky says quietly, not really wanting to leave. Not wanting to leave the position he’s taken in on the couch. He’s far too comfortable, far too close to Steve and he doesn’t want to leave him. But it’s getting late, he’s already been there for quite some time now and he still has the trip to make back home. He holds back the whine however, and hides away in Steve’s neck, feeling how Steve pulls his arms around Bucky and holds him tight. “It’s getting late.” 

“You don’t have to go,” Steve sounds hopeful, careful as he dips his toes into new waters that they haven’t breached yet. The offer to spend the night hasn’t been offered since the first time they came together. Bucky never offered it and Steve never asked. There hadn’t been a need for it, it hadn’t been awkward when Steve left Bucky alone for the evening. But now Bucky doesn’t want to leave, and he pulls back a little to look Steve in his eyes to see what he means, if he’s serious. 

“I mean,” Steve says and smiles up to him, a little nervous at the suggestion and brushes some of Bucky’s hair back behind his ear so it doesn’t hang down into his eyes or tickle his cheeks. “You don’t have to go, if you don’t want to. You can spend the night, if you like? I’ve got a big bed. We’d both fit. We could cuddle, have breakfast together tomorrow morning, or go somewhere together, whichever you like. Unless you’ve got plans, of course, but I got all morning free. Don’t have a class until two in the afternoon.”

Bucky considers the offer, feeling how he breaks out into a grin before he’s even decided his answer. The grin gives the answer on it’s own. Steve joins him in that smile and Bucky can feel how Steve relaxes underneath him. How he just sinks down together and molds with the couch. Bucky nods twice as response and kisses him again, a little bit more eager now than before. The excitement is overwhelming, and that’s what making him kiss Steve with such enthusiasm. Steve arches his body up against him in response, making a content little noise in their kiss. A mixture of happiness and surprise he imagines. 

“I would love to spend the night,” Bucky tells him on a soft murmur, grinning back to Steve. He nipping at his bottom lip before kissing him again. Steve lets out a little squee noise and puts his arm back around Bucky’s neck again to keep him there. 

“Really?” Steve asks as if he can’t quite believe it. Bucky nods again and Steve squeals again. Bucky can’t help but laugh at that excitement and drops his weight on top of Steve to hug him closely. He doesn’t have anywhere to be in the morning. Saturdays are his days off and free, and if he can spend the morning with Steve in bed, then that’s an  _ excellent  _ morning in his book. 

He’s all but forgotten Vanessa. Almost. The one thing that bothers him the most about losing her is that he no longer wakes up next to someone the next morning. That he’s got no one to hold through the night and no one to press kisses against their shoulders and neck when the mood strikes him. Sleeping while single is a lonely affair, and he looks forward to holding Steve close to him. Or hell, being held by Steve. Steve does have such a marvelous way of holding that it sets him right back at ease, making him feel warm, safe, and even loved in an odd way. Bucky already knows that he’ll love how that feels even before Steve’s wrapped his arms around him. 

“What do you want to do in the morning? Want breakfast, want to go out for breakfast? Brunch?” Steve lists all the possible options for Bucky, who only listens with half an ear. His thoughts are still stuck on the comfort of being held and holding Steve while they sleep that he can’t even think that far ahead. 

“We’ll see tomorrow,” Bucky kisses Steve again. “Don’t have to rush it, we got all night. Just want to cuddle with you tonight, that’s all,” He whispers to him with a little grin. Steve matches it and arches up for another quick kiss before settling back into the couch, stroking his fingers lightly over Steve’s arm while he beams up to him. Bucky tries hard to think of something else, tries so hard to push the thought of how happy Steve looks out of his mind. Tries to ignore how he knows that  _ he _ was the one to cause Steve’s happiness like that, and that  _ he _ is the one who gets to cuddle Steve all night through.

“That sounds really nice,” Steve whispers in response to Bucky. “You want to ignore the movie and go to bed? Just cuddle and talk like teenagers?” Bucky laughs and rests his forehead to Steve’s shoulder again. Laughter bubbles up from Steve’s chest as he joins in with the fit of giggles, petting Bucky’s hair again.

“You want to discuss movie star crushes, Rogers?” Bucky teases and expects a shove to his shoulder as a retort. Instead, Steve just snickers and rolls his eyes. But the thought is appealing, to just lay together and whisper secrets to one another that they hadn’t shared with anyone but their friends. The only other company that they have being the darkness of the room. A perfect little box of secrets. 

“Well personally, I’ve always found Mark Hamill to be handsome,” Steve says with a chuckle before shifting underneath Bucky and reaching for the playstation controller. “Let’s go, I wasn’t really watching that one anyway.” With the tips of his fingers Steve manages to snatch the Playstation controller and pulls free from under Bucky.

Bucky moves off Steve and watches how Steve turns off the Playstation, then turns off the television next. Steve puts the remote back on the TV stand and rubs his face with both of his hands. Bucky watches him for a few more seconds, admiring Steve’s figure as he walks over the terrarium to turn off the lamp for Tortellini, who now is resting at the bottom of the terrarium in the water. “Night Tortellini,” Steve says before waving for Bucky to follow him. 

Steve’s bedroom is dark and cold, with black walls that, unlike the rest of the apartment, don’t have any art hung on them. There’s thick heavy sunblock curtains covering the window. The bed is big like Steve promised, with a fluffy duvet on top and a multitude of pillows scattered around it. Steve kicks at the shirt on the floor and sends it into the pile in the corner of the bedroom before dropping down on the bed. 

“You, uh, got a side or anything?” Bucky asks, standing a little sheepish before the bed. Steve shakes his head and scoots further up, making the decision for them and picking the side closest to the door, leaving Bucky with the window one. He crawls up onto the bed and slips under the thick covers with Steve, which makes the cold bearable. Steve turns onto his side and faces his back towards Bucky, inviting him to come up to Steve and slide an arm around his waist to hug him close. 

“I’m happy you decided to stay,” Steve whispers in the silence of the night, squeezing Bucky’s hand again. Bucky smiles and presses a soft kiss to the back of Steve’s neck. He’s happy that he decided to stay, too, and he hopes that the little gesture of just holding Steve a little bit tighter gets his answer across. It does, he feels how Steve squeezes his hand one last time again as a response. 

They don’t do much talking. Before Bucky drifts off to sleep, he decides that if he wakes up before Steve, that he’ll wake him up with another blowjob.


	4. Fourth base

“I think we can both agree that the movie sucked right?” Steve asks as they step out of the cinema screening room. Bucky snorts his response and nods. It had been perfect cinema weather when they set out. It had been raining in a constant drizzle, and the clouds were a dark grey that made the Saturday afternoon feel like it dragged on for eternity. It had been Steve’s suggestion, he had rolled over in the bed and nuzzled his nose into Bucky’s hair and whispered the suggestion -- they should just go out to see a movie, and maybe get dinner after. 

Bucky had been enamoured by the idea, kissed Steve and agreed. When they had reached the cinema however, filled with parents who had brought their young children, they were faced with the realisation that nothing interesting was playing. They didn’t even end up picking the movie, they just went up to the teenager behind the counter and told them to surprise them with a movie that would start within thirty minutes. 

The teenager took one look at them and picked the tickets on her fast judgement. She set them up for an action movie involving a lot of shooting, a couple of explosions and a talking lizard.  The movie was terrible, and frankly Bucky was annoyed at the explosions which almost always seemed to go off just as he was about to doze off to sleep against Steve’s shoulder. Steve had chuckled a couple of times at corny moments, often followed by quietly whispering under his breath why anyone would write that sort of dialogue. Bucky couldn’t help but snicker along. 

“It was terrible. Couldn’t keep my eyes open.” Bucky turns a little to look Steve in his eyes and smiles sweetly. “I essentially paid to nap. We could have napped in bed,” Bucky says with another laugh and shakes his head. Steve hums his amusement and squeezes Bucky’s hand, which he’s been holding ever since the start of the movie. 

“We could have, but then we would be struggling to get up to go out for dinner, and we’d order in another pizza or something,” Steve points out before putting the straw to his drink in his mouth, the cup makes a rattling sound to tell Steve that there’s nothing left in it. He shakes it and looks at it disappointed, before tossing it in the nearest bin. Steve steps to the side so not to stand in people’s way and pulls Bucky along with him. 

“And I do kind of want to go out for dinner with you,” Steve whispers when Bucky’s pulled up against him. Steve’s hands go on his hips as he kisses him sweetly. Bucky kisses back happily with little concern for the world around them at that moment. 

“What do you want to eat?” Bucky asks, coy as he pulls away and smirks to Steve. Steve pretends to make a dramatic sigh and looks up to the ceiling above them. Bucky can’t help but giggle at the gesture of it and presses his forehead against Steve’s shoulder. Steve joins in on the giggles and kisses Bucky softly on the top of his head. 

“Sushi, how about Sushi?” Steve suggests to Bucky with an amused smile. “I could  _ kill _ for a smoked salmon roll right now,” Steve exaggerates, but the message comes across to Bucky, who laughs nonetheless. Steve beams up at Bucky and and lets him take a step back. 

“You know, I’ve never had sushi before?” Bucky reveals to Steve and offers him his hand again. Steve’s jaw drops but he takes Bucky’s hand and lets him pull Steve away from the wall. “Not once in my life, which is fucking hilarious because one of my sisters is married to a Japanese guy who owns a sushi place. They had it at their wedding and everything.” 

“How is that even possible, Bucky?” Steve asks, flabbergasted and confused. It’s true, though.  Bucky just shrugs before giving Steve a sweet smile in response. 

“Because I was drunk for the better part of the wedding and sort of forgot to eat because I didn’t notice. I stopped for McDonald’s on my way home and had a burger instead.” His other sister had been with him and eaten a Big Mac herself, coming up with a last second Seafood allergy because she didn’t like Sushi, and hadn’t wanted to insult their new brother-in-law. 

Steve scoffs and shakes his head. “So, we’re having sushi, then. I just decided for us. I know the perfect place to go to, to introduce you to it. Is your brother-in-law’s restaurant in town?” 

“Sure, Sushi sounds like a plan.” Bucky smiles brightly to Steve, and then shakes his head. “Nah no chance, they live down in Florida. Just a stone’s throw away from Disney World, actually.” Steve makes an adorable little  _ ohh _ sound at that and bounces the next three steps before turning to Bucky again and pulling them to halt again. His smile is so ridiculously excited -- he looks like a little kid. 

“We should go together sometime, that’ll be fun. I’ve always wanted to go! Have you been before?” Steve asks him. Before Bucky can answer his question, thrilled at the idea to head down to Florida with Steve for a weekend to hang around in Disney world, he gets interupted. 

“Bucky?” Natasha’s voice, calm and collected, cuts through the myriad of murmurs and conversations of the people around them. Instinctively, Bucky turns to the direction of it and sure enough, he sees Natasha walk towards them, dressed as sharp as ever. Beside her as a stark contrast is Clint, who carries a supersize popcorn bucket and a large drink. He’s dressed in grey sweats, purple sneakers with the laces untied and a hoodie in the same bright colour. His hair is a mess and he looks like he just rolled out of bed, his permanent state. 

“Natasha,” Bucky says and turns to her, letting go of Steve’s hand. Steve doesn’t realize at first, and doesn’t let go of Bucky’s hand until he pulls it out of Steve’s grip and starts walking over to the duo that’s headed their direction. “Hey, I didn’t know you were gonna be here. Clint.” Bucky gives Natasha a one armed hug and a nod to Clint, who just raises his super sized drink in response to him. 

“Well, Clint lost a bet a while back and I’m just cashing it in now. Want to see that Mongolian Indie movie and I knew there was no way in hell I’d ever get someone to accompany me for it.” Natasha lets go of him. “I could go myself, but where’s the fun in that?” Natasha shrugs and then looks to Steve, who’s walked up to beside Bucky, but yet staying a careful calculated, socially awkward step back. “Hi, who are you?” 

“Oh, this...” Bucky turns a little so they all stand in a circle and pats Steve on his back. “This is Steve, he’s an uhh, friend of mine.” Bucky catches the hesitation in his own voice when he tells Natasha. And out of the corner of his eyes he sees how Steve glances to him just for a short instant, looking almost hurt before he regains himself. “Steve, this is Natasha, a friend of mine. We work together and this mess here is Clint.” 

“Sup,” Clint says with a nod to Steve and sips of his drink. Natasha looks at Steve for a moment, then glances quickly to Bucky. In that short little instant Bucky fears that she can tell, that she knows everything that they’ve done. Down to every little kiss, lick and touch. That she knows how Bucky has been giving Steve a blowjob and how finally, after two weeks of practice he had finally dared himself to swallow for the first time that very morning. 

If she knows, Natasha doesn’t say anything about it. Instead she just smiles to Steve, that all knowing yet neutral smile of hers and extends her hand to him. “Hi,” She says brightly, Steve takes her hand and gives her a firm shake. “Natasha. Nice to meet you,” She clarifies again as if there’s any chance that Steve could mistake Clint for her. Steve gives her a smile that Bucky can’t quite interpret and takes back his hand. “What did you two see?”

“Uhm.” Bucky looks to Steve for help, he can’t remember the title of the movie anymore. In fact, he’s already forgotten half of the movie which only speaks for how good he thought it was. Steve fishes his ticket out of his jacket and squints his eyes as he reads it. 

“Just got out of Gods of Next Year,” Steve fills her in and stuffs the ticket back in his jacket and keeps his hand there. Bucky hadn’t even noticed when Steve put his other hand in a pocket, too. Suddenly, he doesn’t know what to do with his own hand when he no longer has Steve’s to hold on to. 

“Oh, I saw that one the other day, I liked it,” Clint chimes in and nods to Natasha, almost as if he’s in the hope that she might change her mind and that he doesn’t have to go and watch a Mongolian Indie movie with her. Natasha however, doesn’t budge. In fact, she’s still looking at Steve which seems to be making him uncomfortable. Her neutral smile is still prominent on her features. Everybody ignores Clint. 

“Did you like it?” Natasha asks, and it occurs to Bucky that he doesn’t like the tone she uses. He doesn’t like the way she’s looking at Steve and it takes most of his self control not to step in between them and to tell her to back off. Steve moves one of his feet back as if he’s thinking along the same lines of putting some distance in between him and Natasha.  


“I’ve seen better?” Steve says and looks uncomfortable, he glances to Bucky, almost asking him for help. 

“I agree, there are better things to watch,” Natasha says boldly with a smirk. Clint, with the straw of his drink back in between his lips and raises his eyebrows at the statement, like he’s witnessing a fight going down right in front of him and can’t believe what’s happening. A flash of heat runs over Bucky’s neck and he’s suddenly furious with Natasha for intruding, for making such statements and for trying to make Steve hers when Steve is  _ his. _

“We got to go now, we’ve got places to be. Right, Steve?” Bucky says curtly, as he glares at Natasha. She doesn’t seem phased by it, as she doesn’t even look over to him. She doesn’t notice that he wants to murder her on the spot. In all this, Bucky doesn’t even notice that Clint catches the glare. Steve clears his throat, grateful of being saved. He takes that step back. 

“Right, we do.” Steve turns his side to the pair of them and gives both Clint and Natasha stiff little smile. Bucky forces one to Natasha when she finally looks at him. 

“Pity,” Natasha says with a shrug, unphased by the whole situation. She checks her watch and must decide that their movie is about to start. “When are we going jogging again?” She asks Bucky. The biggest part of his anger sated is now sated, but he still feels annoyed with her. 

“I don’t know. Tuesday maybe. We’ll talk about it at work. See you.” Bucky turns, just barely catching her confused expression. He starts to leave with Steve, who seems happy to be freed from the awkward situation. 

“See you?” Natasha says. Bucky doesn’t bother turning to explain or to apologize. She was the one out of line, he thinks, and part of him is angry because of that. While the other part of him tries to be rational and tries to remind him that Natasha has no way of knowing what Steve is to him. 

Neither Steve nor Bucky says anything when they walk out of the movie theater, and it’s not until they hit the streets that Steve grabs Bucky by his arm and makes him turn around. “Hey, you okay?” Steve asks with those big concerned eyes of his and all Bucky wants to do is to just groan and hide against Steve’s chest. He wants to have the beautiful bastard just put his arms around him until he’s calmed down. 

“Yes, yes I’m fine,” Bucky forces a smile to Steve, feeling he owes him more than that so he takes a deep breath and glances down. “She just… she just got under my skin now, that’s all,” Bucky sucks on his lower lip and looks up back up to Steve. “You okay?” He asks in return to him, remembering the hurt expression that had flashed across Steve’s features when they had been standing in front of Natasha and Clint. 

“Yeah, I’m okay,” Steve says with a light nod and shoves both of his hands in the pockets of his coat again. Bucky isn’t certain he believes Steve. His gut tells him not to but Steve looks convincing enough. In the end, he chooses to believe Steve on the simple fact that if Steve had wanted him to know, he’d tell him. 

“You still want to take me for my first bits of sushi?” Bucky asks and lets a small smirk take over his features. He knows it’ll melt Steve, that it’ll make him more relaxed and forget whatever is on his mind and pull him right back of the present. “C’mon, pretty please? Do I need to bat my eyelashes at you?” Bucky teases and closes in the distance between them. Steve chuckles and glances away, giving Bucky the perfect opportunity to kiss the corner of his mouth. Steve turns and kisses him again. “Please?” Bucky begs again. 

“Yeah, alright,” Steve agrees and flashes a content grin to Bucky, flashing his teeth. Whatever had been on Steve’s mind in the cinema, Bucky is certain that he’s managed to push it out of his mind. “Yeah, alright I’ll take you out for sushi, jerk.” Steve gives Bucky a shove by his shoulder, making him giggle. 

“C’mon then, lead the way,” Bucky tells him and offers out his hand for Steve to take it again. Steve’s eyes glance to it for a second before an amused expression comes over him and he takes Bucky’s hand into his own again. 

 

\--

 

Sushi is the weirdest thing that Bucky’s ever eaten in his entire life, and yet, he finds himself liking it for reasons that he can’t quite explain. It’s seaweed, raw fish, and rice, it really has no fucking right to be this good. Steve’s laugh had been wonderful when he had caught Bucky’s expression in surprise that it really wasn’t that bad, before sharing him that pieces of sushi were meant to be eaten whole rather than taking bites out of them. 

Steve spent the better part of ten minutes trying to teach Bucky how to eat them with chopsticks -- another feat he had managed to live his entire life without learning. Eventually Steve gave up and told Bucky to just eat them with his hands. Yet Bucky persisted, wanting to make Steve proud of him for something so small and simple. Wanting to look back to this moment ten, twenty, thirty, maybe even fifty years if he lived to be that old and remember that it had been Steve who had taught him to eat with chopsticks and how his laugh had bounced of the walls and annoyed a family with two young children. 

“Look, Stevie, look I got it,” Bucky grins when he raises his hand, holding up a piece of salmon nigiri with his chopsticks and his other hand underneath it just in case. “Look, I got it!”

Steve looks up from his plate, having put a piece of sushi smoothly in his mouth with little hesitation or clumsiness. His eyes widen when he sees the piece of nigiri and then the lines in the corners of them become evident as he breaks out in a smile. Bucky feels his grip shift a bit of the piece of nigiri so he hurries it in his mouth while Steve raises his hands and claps twice for him while chewing his food. 

“Congratulations!” Steve says once he managed to swallow down his own little piece and takes his Coke bottle, raising it for Bucky to clink his own against. They do their own little cheer and underneath the table Bucky extends his legs, hooking them around Steve’s own. Steve does absolutely nothing to break this, but instead hooks them around Bucky to keep them there as well. 

“Hey Stevie?” Bucky asks on a low tone, resting his chin in the palm of his hand as he watches how Steve with full focus, tries to decide which piece to eat next from their platter. He looks up with a slightly stunned expression and Bucky feels something swirl in his stomach. It’s not the food, the food is excellent. It’s Steve, he knows this now, because Steve is excellent in every possible way. 

“Hmm?” Steve hums and leans in a little himself. There’s a slight little smirk on Steve’s lips that Bucky after all this time, can’t quite make sense of. It means so many things all at once. Now, he puts his guesses that Steve’s amused and teasing. “What?”

Bucky feels the blood rush through his body as his heart suddenly begins to pound in his chest. He is going to ask it, he’s confident in what he wants, but at that moment it’s rather terrifying, he thinks. Not that he thinks that Steve will turn him away. It’s more his own nerves that make him feel nervous So he clears his throat and feels how his cheeks grow a little bit pink. Steve’s expression turns if possible even more amused. 

“Do you uh,” Bucky shifts a little bit in the chair and leans in more over the table. Just so he could be closer to him, just so he can speak on a lower voice and not ruin the dinner of the family just a couple of tables away from them. Steve leans in and presses a soft kiss to Bucky’s lips. It surprises him for an instant before he relaxes into it and returns it. “Do you want to sleep with me?” Bucky asks him on a soft whisper. He hasn’t thought it through at all, all Bucky knows is that he wants to do it that very evening if Steve agrees. If Steve wants him. 

Steve looks into Bucky’s eyes with a starry-eyed expression, like he just got the most wonderful news. His fingers stroke Bucky’s cheeks lightly, and his smile has to be the most beautiful one that Bucky’s ever seen. He thinks that  _ every  _ damn time that Steve smiles, because every damn time, it stuns him just as much. 

“Yes, I’d love to sleep with you,” Steve whispers on a voice low enough to keep the spoken words a secret between just the two of them. No one else in the world has to know, no one else has to know about this bond that Bucky’s feeling in his chest. All he can do is hope that Steve feels the same way about him. Even if he can’t quite interpret what it means yet. The soft kiss that he gets after the confirmed words only tells Bucky that Steve also feels some level of fondness in his chest for him. 

 

\--

 

Steve is an absolute fucking gem. 

As soon as they get back from the sushi restaurant, he dashes off into his bedroom and tells Bucky to wait. So he does. Bucky feeds Tortellini a few pieces of cut up apple as a treat and hears how Steve rummages around in the bedroom, he almost wants to tell him to take it easy, that he knows how Steve’s bedroom looks like because they woke up there together that very morning. He doesn’t and instead lets Steve do whatever he needs to. 

Tortellini has stopped judging him anyhow, so there’s really no need for Steve to hurry. When the pieces of apple are finished, he just sits down by Steve’s art desk and looks through the last couple of projects that Steve has been working on. He doesn’t feel as nervous as he thought he would, and it surprises Bucky a little. It was by far more terrifying to ask it, than knowing that they’re only moments of crossing that line with one another. 

“There.” Steve appears in the doorway to his bedroom. His cheeks are flushed a little bit pink, and his hair is in a little bit of a mess. He’s pulled off his hoodie and is just in his pants and t-shirt. “Now you can come in.” He looks proud of himself and nods for Bucky to join him. Bucky scrambles up from the chair and heads over. Steve’s just about to turn and lead him into the bedroom when Bucky grabs his wrist and spins him around again. 

Steve lets out a content little hum as Bucky kisses him, placing a hand on the back of Bucky’s head and pulling him along into the bedroom with him. Bucky slides his hands around Steve’s waist and down to squeeze Steve’s ass. Steve breaks out into a soft fit of giggles and Bucky can’t help but giggle, too. When they take a couple steps further into the bedroom, Bucky notices what Steve’s been doing the past fifteen minutes to make him so flushed. 

He’s changed the sheets on the bed into a fresh pair, deep dark purple that blends in with the rest of the room. On the nightstand and on the dresser, he’s set up a couple of candles and lit them, their warm light illuminating the room just enough so they can see one another clearly, but still leave a heavy air of mystery and romance. He’s cleared off the nightstands so there’s no clutter on them, not that Bucky would have cared anyway. Standing against the wall is a discrete, black tube which Bucky thinks might be lube, condoms laid out around it. In fifteen minutes by just changing his room a little, Steve has managed to turn it into something more, and so easily makes Bucky feel special. 

“This okay?” Steve asks him in a soft whisper with those big eyes of his. He watches Bucky for any hint of hesitation or regret. His hand is on Bucky’s neck, stroking the stubble on his jaw with his thumb. “Because if it’s too much you just have to say, whatever makes you comfortable and all. I thought… I thought I’d make it nice. That’s all,” Steve rambles on, which makes Bucky realise that Steve’s nervous, too. 

“It’s perfect.” Bucky grins wide at Steve and kisses him again. Steve lets out a pleased little noise in the kiss and pulls Bucky in tighter against him. It is perfect, he hadn’t expected a single thing when he had asked Steve, and yet the other had gone so out of his way to ensure that it would remain a memorable experience for him. Steve was forever concerned about how Bucky felt. When Bucky pulls away, Steve looks so fucking happy. 

“How do you want to do this?” Steve asks, his lips are getting a little flushed from the kisses, his voice is a little bit deeper than usual that tells Bucky that Steve’s growing excited about what they’re about to do. “Did you think about that? Do you want me to… do you..?” Steve asks and moves a finger in between them in a nervous gesture. It’s odd how Bucky feels calmer than Steve looks, when Steve is the experienced one and he is the one who’s about to go through with it for the first time. 

“I want…” Bucky begins, not exactly sure what he wants and tries to decide in a flash. He wants Steve, in that much he is certain and confident of. A part of him almost wants to say that Steve should be the one on top. He is the one trying to figure himself out, not Steve, Steve knows who he is. But at the same time that seems a little too much and a part of him is scared that it will hurt. That it’s something you’ve got to work up to and he wants it to feel good and be memorable. “Can I… do you?” He asks, suddenly feeling shy. 

Steve’s smile warms him, and he leans in and gives Bucky a soft kiss that makes them both moan a little. Bucky can feel how the tension seeps out of Steve’s body and he himself feels put at ease when Steve shows no objections whatsoever at Bucky’s preference for the night. Maybe, if all goes well, they can work up to that for the next couple of times. 

“You can do me,” Steve whispers after their kiss, pressing his lips to Bucky’s lightly. “I’m pretty much, well, ready to go on that department.” Steve giggles in response like he’s a little child and Bucky raises a confused eyebrow in response. “Bathroom, Bucky.” Steve fills him in as he sits down on the edge of the bed. 

“Oh!” Bucky exclaims, feeling stupid. Steve doesn’t seem to mind and shuffles further up the bed, pulling Bucky along with him. He crawls over Steve, kissing and loving the pleased little hum that Steve keeps making between their kisses. Steve spreads his legs a bit and lets Bucky settle in between them which he happily does as he strokes his hand over Steve’s thigh. 

“You’ll have to,” Bucky gets broken off again by an excited kiss from Steve as he moves his hands down Bucky’s chest, then back up over his pecs and pushing his hoodie past his shoulders. Bucky sits up and pulls it off. “You’ll have to talk me through… you know,” He makes a gesture with his hand in between them. Steve nods his promise and sits up, tugging at Bucky’s shirt. 

“I promise I will,” Steve guarantees and pulls Bucky’s shirt over his head and tosses it to the same direction that Bucky tossed his hoodie. ”It’s really not that complicated.” Steve pulls off his own shirt and tosses it. Bucky kisses Steve’s neck, biting softly on the skin there just like he’s discovered Steve likes. Sure enough, it sends a little shiver over Steve’s body and he moves a hand to the back of Bucky’s neck to keep him there. 

Steve rolls them over. Bucky winds up on his back and suddenly finds himself looking up to Steve, who smiles so brightly. Steve is wearing the same necklace he did the night they met, and it’s an arousing sight. He hooks his finger into it and tugs Steve back down to kiss him. 

Steve kisses deeply, inviting tongue to it and for a moment that’s all that Bucky can keep his attention on. When he lets go of the necklace, Steve begins kissing his way down Bucky’s neck, onto the middle of his chest and takes a nipple in between his fingers. He twists it gently which makes Bucky gasp and arch against him. Then Steve kisses his nipple, tongue lapping over it and then nipping at it with his teeth. He looks up to Bucky with a naughty expression and then sucks at it. 

Bucky groans, brushing his fingers through Steve’s hair as he arches his hips towards Steve again. By now, his cock is already hard in his pants, so Bucky slides his hand down his chest and stomach and gives himself a squeeze for a bit of relief. Steve lets him. His tongue slides back to the centre of Bucky’s chest and then down. 

The muscles in his stomach twitch a little at the curious touch which only makes Steve grin more. Then he dips his tongue down Bucky’s side and makes him squirm. Ever since Steve discovered that Bucky was ticklish on his sides he hasn’t been able to help himself. Bucky loves it, mostly because Steve always looks so damn happy when Bucky laughs. Just like he does at that moment, he positively beams at Steve. 

Steve slides his tongue back up and kisses his stomach, giving Bucky a chance to remove his hand from his own cock. He’s instantly rewarded with Steve’s hand there instead, now stroking him through his jeans while he’s pressing soft little kisses down Bucky’s abdomen. Bucky bites down on his lower lip and strokes Steve’s hair again, strokes his thumb over his jawline and gets those beautiful blue eyes look up at  him again. 

Something aches in his chest at that moment and Bucky feels the need to say something, but he can’t quite figure out what it is that he wants to say. So his mouth just falls open as he watches Steve with a mixture of both adoration and amazement. Steve smiles at him so sweetly and takes Bucky’s hand in his own, bringing it to his lips and kisses his knuckles so tender, so intimately that it just makes the feeling in his chest ache more. Wanting to be said more than before now. 

Steve’s nose brushes against the fine hairs on Bucky’s stomach and he lets go of Bucky’s hand to unbutton Bucky’s jeans and tug down the zipper. He loops his thumbs through the belt loops and looks up to Bucky expectantly. 

Obediently, Bucky lifts his hips up just enough for Steve to slide his pants down, his boxer briefs, too while he’s at it. Steve shifts back and tugs Bucky’s pants off fully, and in that very same instant, as Bucky reaches down to stroke himself lazily, he realises that he’s grown completely confident to be naked around Steve, even while Steve’s still dressed.

The jeans disappear off the edge of the bed and Steve settles back into his previous position, taking over on the stroking from Bucky. Bucky moans a little at the gentle touch of it. Steve looks proud of himself. He repeats the movement a couple of times before he licks at Bucky’s cock from base to tip. Bucky lets his eyes fall shut for a moment as he moans again, tilting his head back. Steve does it again, all while making sure that he keeps stroking Bucky’s cock between. 

Steve shifts into a more comfortable position now, raising himself a little. He kisses Bucky’s cock, all while looking at Bucky who can’t see him with his eyes still closed. “Hey,” Steve says, breaking through the soft little groans and moans that Bucky looks out. He opens his eyes and looks down his body to him. Steve smiles so sweetly, eyes attentive and dark now. “Look at me?” 

Bucky swallows, feeling how his throat has gone thick, and nods a couple of times. How could he deny him that? Bucky keeps his eyes on Steve, and watches how he kisses his cock again. A gesture that is just as sweet as it is naughty. Steve licks his tongue over the tip before taking him in his mouth, all while keeping those dark eyes fixed on Bucky. He sucks, hollowing his cheeks a little and Bucky moans, fighting hard not to move his hips up towards Steve in his mouth, knowing he doesn’t like that. 

Steve keeps it up for a couple of seconds before he pulls back off, licking his lips. He smirks at Bucky again before taking him back into his mouth. With his eyes still fixed on Bucky, he slowly begins to bob his head up and down over Bucky’s cock, shifting a little. Next, Bucky feels how Steve’s fingers drag lightly over his balls. 

Bucky groans again, tangling his fingers in Steve’s hair for a grip. Steve moans around Bucky at that, which causes him to let out another groan. Steve pulls back up and sucks at the tip before pulling off again. Bucky’s cock is glistening wet from Steve’s work, and he licks his lips, content and  pleased with himself. 

“You want to cum like this?” Steve asks, cocking his head a little bit as he awaits the response. He wraps his fingers around Bucky’s cock and strokes him, pressing with his thumb lightly on the underside of the head to make Bucky shiver and let out a whimper. The thought of it is tempting, he wants nothing more than Steve’s mouth back around him, to take him, all of him like he knows Steve can and cum down his throat so Steve can pull back and almost entirely leave him clean. 

“No,” Bucky swallows again, letting go of Steve’s hair and stroking his fingers down Steve’s jawline, brushing his thumb over those swollen lips and suddenly, desperately wants to kiss them again. “No I, I want to cum when we…” He trails off, but it’s okay. Steve catches the hint and crawls back over to kiss him, fulfilling Bucky’s desire to kiss those swollen lips. 

Steve grinds his hips against Bucky, and through the fabric of Steve’s jeans Bucky can feel just how hard Steve is. Bucky groans in their kiss, turning it more dominant before rolling them back over again. Steve lets out a little noise of surprise but happily moves along, then when Bucky starts to work at getting him out of his pants, he helps along so it’s a short task. 

Bucky sits up and admires the sight of Steve stretched out in front of him. Skin wonderfully flushed, cock hard and laying against his abdomen, legs spread perfectly for Bucky to remain in between them. He grins and strokes his palm over the underside of Steve’s cock. He moans at that and lets his eyes flutter shut. “What do I do?” Bucky asks, not wanting to tear Steve out of the cloud of pleasure that his brain is in currently. 

Steve comes back to reality and reaches for that tube of lube that he discreetly put up against the wall on his nightstand. “You want to get me ready? Or do you want to watch?” Steve asks with a smirk and bites down on his lower lip. Bucky raises his eyebrows and looks at him, surprised that Steve thinks he wouldn’t want to get him ready. But it would be a glorious sight, he imagines, to watch Steve getting himself ready to take Bucky. 

“I want to do it,” Bucky tells him, sounding as eager as he feels. Steve tosses the black tube of lube over to him and strokes himself. Bucky opens the cap, that much he can figure out himself and looks expectantly at Steve for further instructions. 

“Lube your fingers up, and slide one in me,” Steve’s instructions are short and clear, leaving little room for doubt and hesitation. Bucky does as he’s told and finds that the lube that Steve has is a lot thicker than the ones he’s used with his past girlfriends. It’s a cold, clear gel-like substance, quite thick. His heart is positively pounding away in his chest when he brings his hand in between Steve’s legs. Steve hisses quickly and Bucky can feel that he tenses up. He looks to him, worried he’s already done something wrong. “‘s just cold, that’s all.” Steve assures him and reaches to take Bucky’s free hand on his thigh in his own. 

Bucky nods, and lowers his hand again between Steve’s legs and against his ass. Steve’s comforting squeeze of his hand makes him feel a bit more confident in what he’s doing. Bucky takes one last look at Steve and watches him nod, then he pushes one of his fingers inside of Steve. It goes surprisingly smooth with the lube, and Steve feels relaxed around his finger which Bucky didn’t expect. Truth was, he didn’t know what to expected. 

Steve lets out a pleased little noise at Bucky’s touch and moves his hips down against Bucky’s hand. Bucky watches him, sees how Steve makes those little movements and feels how he tenses up around his finger only to relax again a second later. “This okay?” Bucky asks, desperate for some verbal confirmation that what he’s doing is alright and strokes his free hand back up and down Steve’s thigh.

“Perfect, doll, just perfect,” Steve tells him, shivering a bit just as Bucky feels him tense up again. Steve lets out a soft little moan and strokes his hand over his chest, twisting one of his nipples and spreads his legs a little bit more. “Gimme one more. It’s okay, I can take it,” Steve encourages him, the very same hand that had previously twisted his nipple now is ghosting his fingers down his stomach until he reaches his cock. He takes it in his hand and strokes himself, the other hand taking Bucky’s again and making him stop stroking his thigh. 

Bucky nods obediently, moving his finger out a little. Steve makes a little whine and sounds downright disappointed. Bucky doesn’t have the time to worry about it, though. When he slides in his finger again now accompanied with a second one, Steve’s eyes flutter closed and he tilts his head back to expose his neck as he moans. Bucky grins at that reaction, and without being told to do so he starts to move his fingers in and out of Steve. Slow at first, but Steve doesn’t seem to mind Bucky’s little improvisation. 

He moans each time that Bucky moves his hand back into him, and he smiles a little when he does. Steve quickly finds the pace that Bucky’s settled for him and moves his hips along with it, fucking himself on Bucky’s hand. “Twist your wrist a little,” Steve eventually murmurs in between his moans. 

“Like this?” Bucky asks slightly confused, but the next time he pulls them back out of Steve he twists his wrist a little so his fingers turn in a ninety degree angle. He doesn’t have to wait for an answer from Steve, the moan that the other lets out, how he shivers and grinds down on Bucky’s hand tells him all that he has to know. 

“Like that,” Steve says breathlessly. There’s a slight pink tinge over his cheekbones as he nods quickly and furiously. “Just like that, keep doing that,” Steve says. Bucky does as he’s asked. For a short moment, he just watches the sight in front of him, forgetting about his own hard cock and his own desperate need for friction. He just keeps watching Steve, and wonders if Steve could get off just from having Bucky do this to him, working him open and relaxed with his fingers and it occurs to him, he probably could, but he could find out for certain. 

“Another,” Steve instructs him, gripping Bucky’s hand tighter. Steve’s stopped stroking himself now, and is grasping at the dark purple sheets underneath him. Bucky twists his wrist as he pulls out, he somehow manages to inserts a third finger into Steve and makes him whimper. 

“That’s it, that’s it, just like that, oh god,” Steve moans over and over, still steadily rocking his hips against Bucky’s hand. Steve squirms on the bed, touching himself one moment and the next not, stroking his hand over his chest, through his hair, down on his cock and then biting down on on his fingers, enjoying himself so blissfully that it starts to make Bucky impatient. 

“Okay, yeah, yeah, okay,” Steve nods a couple of times, he opens his eyes and flashes a wide smile to him. “You want to fuck me now, doll?” Steve asks him, it makes Bucky’s brain stop working for a moment before he stupidly nods like an over excited horny fourteen year old about to lose their virginity. In a way it isn’t all that different, hell, he wasn’t even this excited when he actually  _ was _ about to lose his virginity. 

“Condoms,” Steve directs to him, gestures for Bucky to pull out his hand and he does. Steve shifts closer and sits up, taking one of the condom wrappers from the nightstand and kisses Bucky while he opens it. Bucky takes his chance and strokes his hands over every single bit of Steve’s skin that he can find, and whines a little when he breaks the kiss. Steve just looks down in between them though, pinches the tip of the condom and with well practiced movements, rolls it onto Bucky. He moans from the touch and kisses Steve again. 

As they kiss, he doesn’t even notice how Steve gets lube on his hands in between them, and doesn’t notice until Steve’s hands are around his cock and lubing him up. He moans a little in their kiss, trying to move and follow Steve when he pulls back. “I’m going to be on my back okay?” Steve whispers to him. “It’ll be the easiest for both of us, it’s that or from behind, and I want to see you.” 

Bucky nods and is rewarded with another kiss, but it doesn’t last that long. Soon enough Steve’s satisfied with the amount of lube he’s used on Bucky’s cock and lays back down on the bed, looking up to Bucky with an expression that’s a mixture of both happiness and pride. 

Steve spreads his legs again and Bucky shuffles a little closer. “Just don’t slam in, that’s all I ask,” Steve tells him with a soft laugh, and even Bucky finds it funny enough to giggle along. For a moment it makes them forget everything and they just laugh, comfortable enough with one another to do so in their position. 

When Bucky’s gathered himself enough and Steve looks at him with a sweet, adoring smile, he steadies himself by the base of his cock and strokes Steve’s leg, which spreads a little bit more. Bucky lines up and presses the tip of himself against Steve’s ass. He gives Steve one final look for approval and encouragement which he gets, and then pushes in. 

Steve’s warm and feels so incredibly tight around him, definitely tighter than any girl he’s been with. Bucky moans and shuts his eyes, seeing stars as the wave of pleasure hits him. And suddenly, all he can think of is trying not to cum within seconds. He bites down on his lower lip, the sharp pain enough to distract him from it for a quick moment. 

Steve to has his eyes shut with his head tilted back and all Bucky wants to do is to kiss the skin on his neck, suck and leave a mark at it. He’s got a hand tangled in his hair and his chest is rising and falling quickly as he’s breathing quickly. Then he opens his eyes and he catches Bucky’s, making him laugh a little. Bucky joins in. Like the overgrown teenager that he is, he looks down in curiosity and sees in amazement that he’s moved all the way into Steve. 

“Holy shit,” Bucky mutters under his breath as hears Steve chuckle again. Steve shifts his hips just a little, moving them up against Bucky to make him moan from the sensation of it, and to instinctively get Bucky to move against him. Bucky does, of course, and strokes his hand up Steve’s abdomen, right next to Steve’s cock. 

His first few thrusts are a little clumsy and have no rhythm, but with Steve’s help and encouragement it takes less than a minute before he settles into a nice and easy pace at first. It’s still slow, but it’s about all that Bucky can focus on at the moment as he slides in and out of Steve with such ease. The response that he gets is exhilarating. Either Steve is a loud lover, or Bucky is doing something really right. He’s not cocky enough to believe it’s a combination of both. 

But Steve, Steve is wonderful with how he moves his hips to meet Bucky’s thrusts rather than just lay there to take it. It creates such a simple smoothness in both of their movements that Bucky moans and leans over Steve a bit. Steve shifts his legs when Bucky does, spreading them just that little bit more to adapt to Bucky’s wider hips and hooks one of them around Bucky to keep him close and in him. 

Bucky’s cursing not long after, as the pleasure heats up and builds inside of him he starts to thrust a little faster inside of Steve. Something changes in Steve’s moans when he does, they’re no longer drawn out like earlier, and reach a new shorter point where they keep cutting one another off. Steve looks at Bucky and nods, makes a little movement when he can’t speak to encourage Bucky on. 

Bucky does, of course, he places one of his hands on Steve’s hips and makes him lift them a little making it easier to thrust into him a bit faster. And harder, Bucky can’t help himself with the heat pooling in his abdomen and once more has to keep his focus to not cum within an instant. Steve lets out a whimper and pulls Bucky deep in him by his hip. 

“Just like that, just like that, god you feel so good, Buck- _ ah! _ ” Steve doesn’t even finish what he’s saying and moans again. Bucky leans in the little bit of distance that’s left in between them and kisses Steve, who happily kisses back and moans again in it. Underneath him, Steve feels boiling hot. Steve’s cock pressed in between their stomachs and Bucky hopes that the friction he creates with his thrusts make Steve feel fantastic. Steve moans again, shuts his eyes and tilts his head back, leaving his neck open and exposed to Bucky, who instantly nips at it. 

Bucky sucks at the skin after and Steve lets out a little whimper, placing his arms around Bucky’s neck to keep him close against him. Bucky stops sucking at Steve’s neck the moment he’s confident that he’s left a mark in his neck and kisses him again. Their kiss doesn’t last long as they both moan in unison. Bucky opens his eyes and looks into Steve’s dark blue ones and grins. Steve smiles right back at him, just radiating contentment and happiness. 

“Come on, just a bit more, c’mon you’re so close,” Steve encourages him again, Bucky slides his hand back down to Steve’s hip and lifts it a bit, thrusting hard now with the hopes that he’d be able to make Steve cum. Steve shivers underneath him and moves one arm above his head and grabs the headboard. He moans right in Bucky’s ear and Bucky can feel how Steve’s just tensing up around him, how the moans go back to the quick series of  _ ah’s _ . 

Bucky kisses Steve again deeply, and then rests his forehead against Steve’s, watching his eyes again. Steve does the same and it’s the most erotic sensation that Bucky’s ever been part of he realises. He sees how Steve’s features change just that little bit, then Steve grows impossibly, almost painfully tight around him and he lets out a long, deep shudder of a moan. Cum hits both of their chests and gets smeared with the few remaining thrusts that Bucky’s got in him. 

With Steve being that tight around him, he doesn’t last much longer. With one final thrust, Bucky pushes fully into Steve and cums. He shuts his eyes as the pleasure washes over him in warm waves, shivering when he feels Steve’s gentle fingers stroke down his sides now. Steve’s lips press against Bucky’s own when he reaches the end of his moan, and he kisses him back. Bucky places a hand on Steve’s cheek and keeps him there, keeping their kiss soft and sweet and lets himself come to rest on top of Steve. 

Their kiss ends, and Bucky nuzzles in the curve of Steve’s neck where he sucked a mark earlier. Steve doesn’t say anything, he stays quiet, perfecting the moment. His fingers stroke up Bucky’s back and pets his hair at the nape of his neck, he still has his bun, but a couple of strands have started to loosen by now. Steve’s other hand is stroking the skin on Bucky’s arm. He doesn’t ask if Bucky liked it, which Bucky’s grateful for. He did enjoy it, but having the question asked would ruin the moment. 

Bucky takes a deep sigh and shifts his elbows on either side of Steve and pulls up just a little. He looks down to Steve underneath of him and smiles at him. Steve smiles back, his hair standing out in every possible direction against the pillow, and Bucky takes a little pride in the fact that he’s the one who made Steve look fucked silly. Steve seems happy and content and a little bit dazed as he presses his palm down on the back of Bucky’s head to kiss him again. Bucky finds absolutely no reason not to respond. 

“You’re staying the night, right?” Steve asks on a soft whisper, sounding so unsure of himself, and a even a little worried. It’s not that which makes Bucky laugh, it’s the fact that Steve has to ask that has him laughing. He nods. Steve’s expression clears as he smiles, one that reaches up to his eyes. Steve kisses him again, and this time Bucky is a little bit more with it to kiss him back good and proper. Not wanting to start something again, no, he’s sated enough for the entire evening no. but Steve deserves a proper kiss. 

“You know,” Bucky begins, runs the tip of his nose against Steve before kissing him on the forehead. “I am a big fan of cuddling after?” He suggests. Steve giggles a little and it’s catching, Bucky joins him in and kisses his forehead again. 

“Let me just get cleaned up, and get some water?” Steve suggests. Bucky nods and plants his hand on the mattress underneath him, and with a careful movement pulls out of Steve. Steve takes in a breath when he does, but offers no further comment. Then with a smoothness that Bucky didn’t expect, Steve rolls of his bed, gets up and sets direction for the bathroom. Bucky sits on the bed for a moment longer before he follows. 

Steve’s wiping his chest off with wet wipes when he enters. Bucky doesn’t know for certain, but as he removes the condom, he feels pretty confident that Steve is admiring his ass and Bucky feels a flash of pride. When he turns, he catches Steve’s eyes in the mirror just like he expected to. Steve just gives him a coy smile in the mirror and winks. Bucky chuckles softly and comes to stand behind him, wrapping his arms around Steve’s waist and presses a kiss on the back of his shoulder. 

“Want me to get the water?” he asks with his lips still pressed against Steve’s skin. Steve has a little mysterious smile again, and he looks oddly fond, Bucky thinks. Bucky smiles at the sight and Steve’s own smile reaches reaches the corners of his eyes again as he nods. 

“Yes please,” Steve tells him. Bucky kisses the same spot again and lets go of Steve’s shoulder. As he walks past Tortellini’s tank to the kitchen, Bucky pauses and flicks off the switch for her lamp. She doesn’t seem to be bothered in the least of Bucky standing naked beside her terrarium. In the kitchen, Bucky finds two glasses, one big with yellow slices of lemon painted on it and another one with a banana using its own peel as a hammock. Steve had told him before that it was a painting, but Bucky hadn’t believed him until he’d Googled it. 

He fills both of glasses up with water and walks back to the bedroom, turning off every light as he goes. Steve’s already sitting on the bed, having blown out all the candles. When Bucky makes it back, and crawls the sheets, Steve accepts the glass with the banana hammock and takes one big gulp of it. Bucky smirks a little and and sips at his own glass, putting it on the nightstand when he’s done. 

“God, I needed that,” Steve whistles and puts his own glass away, flicking of the light on his nightstand off. In the darkness, Bucky hears the sound of the sheets shifting and before long, he feels Steve’s warm arms around his middle and his head come to rest against his chest. Bucky smiles a little and shifts his arm so Steve’s positioned more comfortably against his side and has his shoulder to rest on. Lazily, he drags his fingers through Steve’s hair and feels how it stands out in every direction. In return, he feels fingers softly stroke the hair on Bucky’s chest, straying far away from Bucky’s sensitive sides to avoid tickling him. 

They lay like that in silence for a few minutes. Bucky isn’t dozing, not yet. He’s enjoying Steve laying against him too much. Resting, relaxed, and comfortable. He’s still in awe by how beautiful Steve had looked while he was fucking him, and how he smiled so beautifully that he lit up the damn room. The heat in his chest is starting to twirl again, and at the thought and the recent memory of it he can feel how his heart starts to beat slightly faster. In that moment, Bucky is overjoyed that Steve is laying beside him, partly on top of him. 

“Tell me something,” Steve whispers in the darkness, breaking their silence. Bucky hums to indicate that he heard him. 

“What? Like a story?” Bucky asks, not entirely certain what Steve means. He shifts his head a little and lets it rest against his left shoulder in the hope of seeing Steve’s eyes glitter in the darkness. He doesn’t, so Steve must have them closed. The room is still a little bit illuminated from the streetlights just outside his apartment. 

“Yeah, or… no. Tell me a secret? Tell me something you’ve never told anyone before?” Steve asks, followed by a hint of a childish giggle. Bucky can’t help but laugh before he sighs and tries to think of a secret worth telling Steve in a moment like this. One that’s happy and soft, one that will make Steve like him even more. That’ll serve better than him admitting something stupid, or bringing up something dark and sad. 

_ I like you, _ is the first thing that crosses Bucky’s mind, but he can’t bring himself to say it out loud. Not yet at least. He buries the thought deep within himself to dig up some other day, when he actually has the time to sit down and think about what it actually means. 

“Last year, one of my sisters was visiting. She and her husband had a date afternoon, cause they hadn’t really had a chance since having my nephew,” Bucky begins and pauses, Steve says nothing but keeps stroking his fingers over Bucky’s chest. “So, I told them I would watch him. His name is Maximilian, but everybody calls him Max. He was about eleven months, by then. So I was just sitting around in my apartment, playing a little with him, keeping him entertained. The tv was on because well, he was practically a baby, so I was watching it, and a commercial break cuts on. And then there’s this jingle in one of them and he just turns to look at it. He points at the tv and I swear to god, Max said, “Laundry.” It was an ad for laundry detergent, and I think he really just liked the jingle for it.” Bucky snickered, even Steve giggled a little. 

“I figured he was too young to talk. When we played and when I talked to him, he’d make noises at best, but he’d say laundry well, quite articulate. When my sister and her husband came back, we just sat around in the living room, I was still on the floor with Max. I decided not to mention he had said laundry. They went home that weekend. About a week later, I get a phone call from my sister and she’s just sobbing. Tells me that Max spoke for the first time, tells me he pointed at the tv and said laundry when that damn ad came on. In the back, I could hear her husband questioning why the fuck that was his first word and not Dada or Momma or something like that. I was happy I didn’t tell her he had done that in my place. I’m happy she got to experience it as the first time. Even if it wasn’t.”

“That’s real sweet,” Steve whispers softly and Bucky stops stroking his fingers through Steve’s hair, instead he lets his hand rest on Steve’s shoulder. 

“Yeah, but now the problem is that he never shuts up,” Bucky snickers a little. Steve joins in, then shifts in the bed. Bucky feels how Steve’s chin comes to rest in the middle of his chest. Now with the help of the street light, he sees how Steve’s eyes flicker in the dark. He feels the soft stroke of Steve’s fingertip against his lips. 

Before Bucky has the chance to part his lips for it, Steve pulls it away and leans in for a soft little kiss. “Want to hear my secret now?” Steve whispers to him, kissing him again so Bucky can’t give him an answer the moment the question is asked. Bucky nods, feeling Steve’s nose against his own before he kisses him again, placing his hand on the back of Steve’s head. The kiss is innocent enough, but he can tell that Steve is planning something anyhow just by the way that Steve smiles in it. 

“My secret is that I want you to make love to me in the morning when we wake up,” Steve murmurs on a low tone to him. Bucky finds himself grinning in response, already looking forward to it and loving the choice of words. Not sleep with him, not fuck him,  _ make love to him. _ He’s already imagining soft imagery in his head of the close and intimately with one another. Steve holding him tight against his own body while Bucky’s thrusting into him slowly and gently, combined with lazy kisses and gentle touches. More loving than any romantic comedy he’s ever been forced to sit through in his entire life. 

“I have nowhere to be in the morning,” Bucky whispers, stroking his fingers over Steve’s cheeks, tracing down that strong jaw of his and pulls him in by his chin for another kiss, short and sweet. “Nowhere at all, I can be here all day if you want me to be here.”

“I do,” Steve whispers to him in the dark. 


	5. I could be yours

All fucking week Bucky had missed Steve. 

He hadn’t seen him since their last weekend together. Bucky had stayed nearly all Sunday with Steve and in his bed. Making love to him, fucking him, and then making love to him again. Bucky hadn’t wanted to go home, but near eight in the evening when Steve had to head off to teach a class, Bucky had decided that it was for the best if he went home. 

After his class, Steve would just head straight to bed for an early morning shift, it was his turn to open art and supplies store. Bucky had work as well the following day, so a shower and fresh, more professional clothes would be a good idea. Before he had gone to bed, he received one last text from Steve. It was a simple kissing emoji, and Steve telling him that he was already missing Bucky.  God, did he miss him in return. 

With the lack of Steve in his week, it felt like it dragged on forever. To make matters worse, because Steve had time off the previous weekend, it meant that he was working the next. Making it even harder to meet up, if downright impossible. Bucky spent his Sunday not doing anything exciting at all. 

He paid some bills by his laptop, and after that just spent most of the afternoon laying in his couch and watching shitty tv, getting more distracted by his phone and the games he had installed it than anything else. Sundays without company, Bucky found, were just plain boring, especially if you had  already stretched out an entire Saturday the day before. It was almost terrible to admit it, but he was looking forward to going back to the job that he hated the next day just so he could be around people again. 

Next week, he knew, Steve’s schedule was more open, which meant that he’d have time during the days and the evenings when he wasn’t teaching his art classes. Bucky would have asked Steve to come over that very evening after his shift, but he knew there was little point to it. Every Sunday evening Steve held a class in acrylic painting, Bucky still wasn’t entirely sure what that was, and believed it to be advanced water color. They would only have an hour at most in between Steve’s shift and class. 

When the doorbell rings, Bucky’s surprised. His tv isn’t loud, and he hasn’t been making any noise. None of his friends drop by without asking first, and he sure as hell hadn’t ordered a pizza even if it had been playing on his mind. Bucky gets up, leaving the television to play the historical documentary that he hadn’t been watching in the first place. 

Bucky heads over into the hallway and presses his hands against the door as he looks through the peephole to see who’s ringing at his bell. He sees Steve and instantly starts to grin -- Steve’s looking away at that moment, dressed in his dark jeans jacket. His hair is looking streaked and wet, only confirming the faint hint of rain that Bucky’s been seeing out of his window. He unlocks the door and pulls it open. 

“Hey! I didn’t know you were coming today,” Bucky says, instantly putting an arm around Steve’s shoulders to hug him. He presses a kiss against Steve’s cheek. The jean jacket feels cold and damp against his clothes, and Bucky barely catches the surprised and almost torn expression of Steve before he hugs him. Steve puts his arm around Bucky’s back and squeezes him tight. 

“I didn’t either, until today really,” Steve holds Bucky tight for a moment before letting go. Bucky takes a step back and  _ then  _ he catches the look in Steve’s eyes. He looks nervous, and not out of excitement like he’s been these past few weeks, closing in to months now. In fact, Steve looks rather upset. Like he much rather would just turn tail and walk away. It makes Bucky’s stomach hurt. 

“You okay?” Bucky asks him. He squeezes Steve’s shoulder. Steve forces a smile, but it comes across as strained, Bucky thinks, and not genuine at all. Yet Steve makes small, faint little nods that make his damp hair bounce a little bit on the top of his head. Bucky doesn’t believe Steve in the slightest. 

“Yeah, I’m okay. Can I come in?” Steve asks and gestures to the inside of the apartment. Bucky nods and steps aside, holding the door open for Steve. Steve steps inside and just takes off his shoes before walking into the apartment, still wearing his jean jacket which Bucky takes as a bad sign. He believes Steve even less now than he already did. 

Still, Bucky doesn’t question it. He closes the door to his apartment and follows Steve inside, the uncomfortable feeling coiling around in his chest, warming him up to the point where he finds that his apartment suddenly is unbearable. “Do you want anything to drink?” Bucky asks Steve with his hands down the front pockets of his jeans. Steve sits down on the couch and adjusts a pillow, moving it further away from him. He doesn’t look at Bucky when he nods. “Okay,” Bucky says, heading out to the kitchen. 

He tries not to hurry back, not enjoying the uncomfortable silence that’s hanging over the pair of them. He fills up a glass of water and mindlessly watches how it the glass gets filled from the tap. Then goes back out to Steve to hand him the drink. Steve accepts it, and Bucky sits down in his armchair beside the couch, feeling like he should be giving Steve some space. Bucky pulls up one of his legs in the armchair and begins to draw circles on his knee. 

“I need to talk to you,” Steve tells him and puts the glass down on the coffee table without daring himself to look Bucky in his eyes. Bucky, previously having felt so warm with nerves suddenly feels freezing and reaches over for his hoodie that’s thrown over the edge of the couch. 

“Okay,” Bucky repeats again and pulls the hoodie on, not taking his eyes away from Steve and watches how he looks up. How Steve gives him a small smile that is so genuine, but at the same time expresses so much pain and worry. Bucky’s throat goes dry and he hugs himself around his middle. “About what?”

Steve takes a breath and halts for a moment. He licks his lips and looks back down, folding his hands together as if he’s trying to pick the right words to say. Bucky thinks that few conversations that start with  _ I need to talk to you _ ever end well. They haven’t in his experience. 

“I need you to… I need you to make up your mind, because I’m going to be honest with you now.” Steve looks up, and in that one instant looks and sounds more confident. Almost as if he’s prepared the little speech he’s undoubtedly is about to give. Bucky nods, but still feels an unsettled in his chest, not entirely unlike the panic and anxiety he hasn’t felt since college. Steve takes his nod as an indication that Bucky is listening to him. 

“I need you to make up your mind,” Steve repeats again, voice much clearer now. “Because I can’t do this anymore and pretend like it doesn’t mean anything to me. It does mean something to me, I’ve caught feelings, which I shouldn’t have done. Because this is experimenting, it’s what we both agreed on, but I fell in that trap anyway. And I shouldn’t have. I can’t be with you, and pretend like you don’t matter, that we’re just friends who have fun with one another, that I’m just someone helping you figure out a new part of yourself. I can’t do that anymore, and I need to be honest with myself. I’m putting all the cards out on the table, because you deserve to know. I need to know, if there’s a chance of us being something, or if we should call it quits and stop doing what we’re doing and go our separate ways so I can move on. I realised that. I realised that hard, when we met your friend, Natasha? I got… I know you didn’t mean it, but when you introduced me as just your friend, I was both angry and upset with you before realising that I shouldn’t be. Because we haven’t had this talk. But I think it’s time we do now. I can’t do this, and I’m asking you, to make up your mind.”

Steve looks at him after he’s finished his little monologue. He’s holding out his hand a little that he used to gesture with and Bucky spots the light tremble in it. There’s tears in the corners of Steve’s eyes but he keeps his expression collected. Bucky swallows and finds that his throat has gone thick. There’s a level of despair washing over him that he doesn’t like the slightest bit. He doesn’t even know what to say in response to Steve, but his focused expression on Bucky shows that he expects an answer. “Okay,” He says on a tone that’s far too weak for his own liking.

“I know --” Steve starts again but cuts himself off. Now there’s a tremble in his voice as well, as if Bucky’s own weak tone had given permission for it. Steve wipes at the corners of his eyes with the back of his hand and chuckles a little. “Fuck, I promised myself I wouldn’t cry,” Steve confesses to no one in particular and looks down again, he sniffs one more time. “I know it’s not something you decide instantly, I know that. And I don’t want to put you on a stage and make you decide right this minute. I don’t want you to feel forced, I want you to think this through, properly and deeply. Because this is not just asking you to figure out what your sexuality is, this is also me asking if there is a chance of you and me being together. And if there isn’t, and you’d rather just be friends, I want you to be honest with me and tell me that, too. But I can’t promise that I’ll be able to do that, not yet. I need to see how I feel when you tell me that, and let me digest it for a bit. I want you to think about it a couple of days, take some time with it. Because if there is a chance, I want this to be a  _ serious  _ chance. I don’t want you saying yes for the sake of saying yes and a week later we fall apart. Then I’ve got two heartbreaks to work through.” 

They sit in silence for a little while after that, and Bucky isn’t entirely sure if he’s supposed to say something or if he’s supposed to stay quiet, in case there’s more to Steve’s practiced speech than he’s already let on. Bucky feels distraught, in front of him Steve looks absolutely devastated and all Bucky wants is to just shift over to Steve and put his arm around him. But part of him feels like Steve wouldn’t appreciate the gesture, or even want it until Bucky’s given him a clear answer. 

His first instinct is to say yes, to just admit it out loud and say yes and get to kiss Steve and to hold him and hug him and make him feel better. He’d do everything in his damn power until Steve smiles and laughs again. Bucky has loved Steve’s company. More than loved, he absolutely adored every minute they were together and he had felt miserable every second they were apart. And during their time together he had been so involved with Steve that he never once really stood still and thought about what they were doing. 

Bucky had fun, he hadn’t spent his every second thinking about what it meant because he enjoyed it. For two months, he hadn’t once really thought if he was gay, or bisexual, or  _ whatever _ . He just had been with Steve and loved his company, formed a deep form of connection that he’d never really felt before in his life. Bucky hoped that Steve felt the same about him in regards to that. 

Bucky knew he didn’t want to lose Steve. But Steve had been right, he did need to think it through and try not to fall back on his first instinct. He didn’t want to say something on impulse either, he wanted to feel certain on it, too. So he nodded a couple of times and went back to drawing circles on his knee. Still not sure of what to say to break the silence. “Okay, okay. I’ll… think about it,” Bucky nodded and looked at Steve, as if that set his promise in stone. 

Steve sniffed and gave him a stiff little smile in return. There was still sadness in his expression, but Steve seemed to feel a little bit better now that he’d lifted all his thoughts off his chest and placed out the demands and handed them over to Bucky. He had done what he needed to do, and now Bucky just needed to make up his mind. “Okay.” Steve nodded a little bit and placed both of hands on either side of him. “Take a couple of days, Bucky, don’t rush it, I don’t want you to rush it. Promise me that you won’t.” 

“I won’t,” Bucky assured Steve and tried to give him back the same sort of stiff smile that Steve had given moments earlier. Steve nodded again and rubbed his hands together, looking down over them. The silence hung heavy over the pair of them and all Bucky wanted to do was to ask Steve to stay, even if he knew that it was stupid. Steve had a class to teach in a couple of hours, and after that little speech there was no way that Steve was going to hang around and laze with Bucky in his couch while they watched some shitty tv show. 

“I’m going to go now. Give me a call when you’ve decided, okay?” Steve asked, and stood up. Bucky followed him with his gaze, wanting to say something more but not sure what. Uncertain of what would make Steve stay and realize that he wanted him in his life one way or another. Uncertain of how to even say it. He wanted to say it with a kiss, press his lips against Steve’s and have his hands on his neck and hold him close to never let go. But that would be an impulse, that would be what Steve had asked him  _ not  _ to do. 

“I’ll call you,” Bucky promised Steve with a little nod. The strained smile was back, but Steve nodded. Bucky’s stomach stung, icicles pricking away inside him. Unsure of what the aim of it was, Bucky just felt uncomfortable by it. 

“I’ll let myself out,” Steve told him, and with slumped shoulders he walked back out to the hallway. Bucky didn’t get up from his armchair. He pressed his lips against his leg and glanced over to the television which was still showing the documentary as he heard Steve step back into his shoes. He heard the heavy door to his apartment open, heard how Steve stepped outside and how the door fell shut. His apartment would have fallen in silence after that, if it wasn’t for a professor talking on about some plane that had gone missing. 

The silence was overwhelming, the discomfort in his stomach only grew worse. In less than two seconds, Bucky’s eyes began to water. It only took him one more second to press his forehead against his knee and start to sob. Steve had left him, like everyone else. 

But Steve, Bucky thought, Steve had every right to leave him.

 

\--

 

Lunch came far too late. All morning Bucky had done his best to just put his focus on his work, but found himself getting distracted almost every five minutes. He kept making minor errors on mathematical equations that he usually could do without batting an eye, and had without shame opened up the calculator to help him with his work for the day. 

After Steve had left the day before, Bucky had found himself sobbing for a good hour before he had managed to calm himself down enough to go about his life. If one could call it that. Once he had calmed down it just felt like everything had drained out of him and all that was left was an empty shell. He had felt exhausted, while simultaneously not tired enough to actually just lay down and sleep. 

As a result he had laid back down on the couch and pulled a blanket over him, staring at his tv without really watching until it was three in the morning. He hadn’t even noticed that it was that late. So he had set an alarm, shut his eyes and got three hours of light sleep before he had to get back up and get ready for work. The moment his alarm rang, he felt tempted to just call in sick and stay home, lay even longer on the couch. But what good was that going to do? Then he’d spend all of his Monday like he had spent his Sunday. 

With a faint trace of hope, he had thought that work would set him on different thoughts, clear his head just long enough so he could think. So he could figure out what he wanted, and call up Steve and give him an answer. Close a chapter and open a new one, whichever one that would be. One with a happy ending, or one that he’d much rather not think about. 

Bucky was picking at his lunch, turning a deaf ear towards Natasha, who was ranting on about god knew what. Bucky didn’t really care, he didn’t even care about his food. Leftover pasta with cheese sauce and sausage, something he otherwise fucking loved, but now couldn’t bring himself to eat. And he really should eat. He hadn’t eaten since lunch the previous day, he hadn’t gotten up from the couch after Steve left to make food, let alone to get some water. It meant that now he had a headache on top of his blue mood, and the bit of Coke from the can that he had bought from the vending machine on their way to the staff room wasn’t helping him much. It just tasted disgustingly sweet. 

“You’re not listening, are you?” Natasha says and manages to snap Bucky out of his daydream of nothingness. Well, he had been thinking about Steve, but that was it. Just Steve as a whole being, picturing him in his head. He missed him. He had missed him all fucking week, and then even more after he had come by. 

Bucky glances up from his food, shrugs a little and then goes back to poking at his pasta with his fork. Just as he reaches to take his can of Coke, Natasha kicks him lightly against his shin to get his attention again. Bucky just narrows his eyes to her and sips of his drink. “Come on, what’s wrong? You look like you’ve seen another sad Facebook post about a shelter having to put down ten litters of puppies or something,” She comments, fishes out a sunflower seed from her bowl of salad and pops it in her mouth. 

“Nothing,” Bucky mutters and puts down the Coke can again. Natasha frowns at him, and he knows that she doesn’t believe him. But at that particular moment Bucky finds that he truly doesn’t care if she believes him or not. She asked him a question and he gave her an answer. For as far as he is concerned, she should be happy with what she got. 

Natasha doesn’t say anything after that, she just watches him carefully with her robotic blue-green eyes that freak him out with their alertness. She sighs, and fishes out another sunflower seed from her bowl. “Come on Bucky, I’m not an idiot, you look terrible. Your eyes were red when you turned up for work and they still are, you keep yawning and spacing out and you’re using a calculator. A  _ calculator!  _ You’re the office human calculator and now you’re relying on a machine, something’s wrong,” She says, as if that will convince him. 

Bucky doesn’t crack at that, and forces his first bite of his pasta and finds that not only is he not hungry, but the pasta tastes disgusting. He pulls a face, drops down his fork in his plastic container and pushes it away from him, wanting nothing to do with it anymore. Natasha keeps watching him with those robot eyes of hers and then speaks, softer, in a tone that Bucky didn’t even expect. “Come on, talk to me.”

Bucky looks at her, and feels something cracks inside of him. Through those cracks all the pent up emotions and thoughts that he’s been holding start to drip out like a dam breaking. With a speed he didn’t even know he was capable of, Bucky breaks into tears. He’s suddenly glad that it all just spills out of him and that there’s someone there with him to catch it, to catch him when he falls. Glad that they are the only ones in the office to have lunch from eleven thirty to twelve and that they’re alone. 

Natasha’s eyes widen in shock and for a split second she looks completely startled. Bucky doesn’t notice, he leans forward and presses his forehead into the palms of his hands as he begins to sob. Shoulders shaking as he does, heaving for breaths that he can’t fully take. He thinks of Steve. Steve, Steve, Steve and only Steve. 

Natasha sets her bowl down on the table and scoots her chair around the table a little so she’s beside Bucky. Uncertain if he’s alright with touching her, she gently places a hand on his shoulder. When he doesn’t shrug it off, she moves it across his back and starts to rub circles on it and gives him a moment. They sit like that, Natasha giving Bucky a little while to get over the initial and strongest wave of despair as he sobs it out of his chest. Letting out everything that has been building up ever since Steve left and he stopped crying the first round. 

“Why are you crying?” Natasha asks on a voice so soft and so tender that it catches him a little bit off guard. Bucky sniffs, and manages to calm himself down somewhat enough to offer her an answer. Bucky clears his throat and tries to speak, it doesn't quite go as well as he expects. Every word that he considers saying dies somewhere in his throat. But Natasha is patient and doesn’t nag him. She just keeps rubbing circles in his back and gives him the time he needs to clear his head. 

“You know how I said, I met someone? Couple of weeks back, when you were getting pissy with me for not hanging out with you guys?” Bucky eventually asks her and looks sideways to look at Natasha. Her eyes cast up to the ceiling, then she looks back to him and nods. Then, she realises and lets out a soft  _ oh _ as she realises what he’s about to tell her, or at least, a rough gist of the tale he’s about to share. 

“Oh Bucky, I’m so sorry. Didn’t it go well?” She asks carefully, knowing that she’s treading on thin ice over a sensitive subject. Yet Bucky finds himself nodding, because in a sense it  _ had  _ gone well. Steve had caught feelings, as he had said so himself. It was just that now Bucky found himself in front of a dilemma which frustrated him, because it should be such a clear and obvious answer to it. At this point, he’d imagined he would have known instinctively who he really was.

“I mean,” Bucky begins and wipes at his eyes with the back of his hand. He feels calmed down enough to talk like a normal person. Now with Natasha next to him, he wants to just spill everything over to her and give her the responsibility of deciding for him. He had always been indecisive, and it sure as hell didn’t help now. “It went well, it went really well actually. We had a lot of fun together, bonded and everything…” Bucky trails off and looks at his fingers. His head is pounding by now from his headache, and with a slight tremble in his hands he reaches for his soda again. Bucky drinks, and then holds the can with both of his hand and looks down on the lettering on it. 

“But..?” Natasha coaxes him, raising one of her eyebrows and halting the way she rubs on his back. Bucky sniffs again and looks at Natasha. Wondering if he should tell her, or if he should just keep it to himself. He decides to tell her. She had been the one to put the idea in his head in the first place. Bucky doesn’t blame her for the situation he’s landed himself in, he knows that he’s fully responsible himself. He hopes, at least, that Natasha will be able to help him figure it out. 

“Remember when Vanessa and I broke up?” Bucky said, hoping that it would bring her right back to that particular conversation that they had while running. It’s a wild card, he knows, there are plenty of other moments that could be the first ones to pop into Natasha’s head when he mentions it. Judging by her frown, she has written all over her face she’s got the wrong memory playing in her head. 

“Bucky, you know I love you and I will support you through everything and I want you to be happy. But, please tell me you didn’t get back with Vanessa,” Natasha says, and Bucky groans, rolling his eyes and looking away from her. 

“What? No I didn’t get back with Vanessa,” Bucky tells her. Natasha sighs in relief at that. 

“Okay good,” Natasha nods in an approving way, but then focuses back on him and the actual matter in front of them. “Then what do you mean, when you and Vanessa broke up?” She asks, Bucky licks his lips and to postpone speaking up. He sets the can back down on the table. 

“When we were running together one day, and you said I might be… gay?” Bucky says and looks at her, Natasha’s expression doesn’t change, but she nods to indicate that she knows what he’s talking about. “Well, I thought… maybe there was some truth to that, so I figured, there would be no harm in trying right? In experimenting a little bit. So the person I met… is a guy.” Bucky confesses to her, and watches her face for a hint of mockery. Just that one teasing comment of  _ I told you so _ . 

Instead, Natasha’s expression remains as blank as before while she waits for him to continue. She blinks, and doesn’t look confused about it in the least. “Okay and? You got attached to him? Did he leave you, too?” Natasha asks with a shrug of her shoulder as if she got tired of waiting for him to continue. 

Bucky isn’t quite certain what to make out of her acting so calm about his confession. Part of him wants to scream at her that she started it and she should give more reaction to it. That she should praise him for having had the courage to go through with it and try to be with a guy. But the other part of him, the largest part of him is just happy that she’s not making a big deal out of it and wants him to continue to tell her what’s wrong. 

Bucky clears his throat and looks back down to his hands, trying to find the right words for what caused the clash in between him and Steve. If you even can call it a clash, Bucky’s uncertain. It’s just a demand. A demand of something that even Bucky thinks Steve has all the right to ask if he’s getting emotionally involved. “He didn’t… leave me per se,” Bucky begins. “We’ve been hanging out a lot lately, having fun with one another, watching movies, other stuff.” Bucky glances sideways to Natasha to watch her expression. It’s still as neutral as it was before. No reaction, not even to a subtle admission that Steve and him had been in bed together. 

“And…” Bucky feels how his voice cracks again, pausing once more to collect himself one final time.  _ Do it quick, _ Bucky finds himself thinking,  _ like a bandaid _ . “We got to involved with one another, and he admitted he’s got feelings for me now after everything. And he told me that we can’t do this anymore because he’s got feelings and because I still don’t fucking know if I’m gay or straight or bi or whatever. So, he asked me to decide. He wants me to figure out what I am, and then he wants me to figure out if there’s a chance for us to be together. He wants to know if he has to move on or not.” 

“Okay,” Natasha says calmly, her hand falls still in the middle of Bucky’s back but remains there. A soft, gentle comforting touch to let him know that she is still there, even if she sits right beside him. Physical confirmation. “So what’s the problem?” She asks, almost flatly so. Like it’s the easiest decision in the world to make. For a moment Bucky wonders if she even understood what he just told her. But of course she does, it’s fucking Natasha, you tell her something and she understands it from the get go, genius that she is. 

“I don’t know,” Bucky admits, and in that moment he isn’t entirely sure if he isn’t sure over who he is, and how he wants Steve in his life, or if it just is his response to Natasha’s question. He puts his head back into his hands and tugs at his hair. “I don’t know,” He whispers, feeling another sob come over him. His shoulders shake once, twice, and Natasha begins circling her hand over his back again. 

“Bucky,” She says softly and leans forward a little, coming in closer and pulling her chair along with her so it’s right beside his. Bucky wipes at his eyes again and looks at her, wondering just how much off a mess he looks at that moment. “Are you?” She asks, being purposely vague, but Bucky understands what she means anyhow. He takes a deep breath and shuts his eyes, keeps his breath in for a couple of seconds and then exhales, feeling how it slowly makes his heartbeat calm down. 

“I don’t know,” Bucky admits, and he feels that he’s speaking the truth. He doesn’t know. “I mean, maybe? I don’t know, I’m attracted to him, I know that much. And the sex… the sex is pretty amazing.” Bucky admits with a faint little smile, Natasha doesn’t have to know that they’ve only slept with one another four times, but he had loved every single encounter and never once found himself slightly bored, or distracted, or wishing that it was over. 

Everything Steve did, every single way he had looked beneath him like that had been beautiful and it had been just as intoxicating as it had been addicting. Bucky wanted more of it. Wanted to feel Steve around him. Wanted to blow him. Wanted to spend his evenings and nights kissing Steve while jerking him off, sometimes with both of them in his hand. He wanted all of it. Bucky had never once felt that amount of passion with Vanessa, or any of his other girlfriends. So now when he thinks back on it, he isn’t offended at all anymore that Marla thought he wasn’t attracted to her, in hindsight… he wasn’t. 

“But I don’t really care about any of that? I don’t care what I’ve got to figure out. I don’t care if I like just guys, or guys and girls… but I might like girls less? I don’t know. It doesn’t matter,” Bucky sniffs, Natasha nods. “I care about having him with me,” Bucky continues. “I don’t… I want, I want to be with him. I  _ like  _ being with him. He’s smart, he’s funny, he’s so so fucking creative and he creates the most beautiful pieces of art. He has the sweetest, gentlest and most adorable little smile on his face when he feeds Tortellini.” 

Natasha just frowns and Bucky shrugs. “It’s his turtle,” he explains quickly without going into detail. “He’s an alright cook, I mean he’s not terrible, and he’s not amazing but he tries so many things with enthusiasm. He’s got amazing taste in movies, I mean, we watched the original Godzilla together, the black and white one,” Bucky tells her, and Natasha groans undoubtedly at the flashback she’s having from high school where Bucky made her sit through them. “He sends me stupid dog pictures over texts and makes me laugh. He likes to tell me little stories and anecdotes and… and he holds me. You know I’ve never been held before? He fucking holds me when we’re in bed or in the couch. Makes me feel special. He makes me feel good about myself,” Bucky rambles on to Natasha. Not realizing that he’s talking nearly a mile a minute without giving her a chance to chime in and ask him questions. He talks on and on and could keep going. That, Bucky realizes, however. He knows that if he sits down to talk about Steve he could talk until the sun set and rose again and never run out of fascinating, beautiful and absolutely wonderful facts about Steve to share to the world. 

“I just want to have him with me, Natasha,” Bucky tells her softly, and tries to smile, with a little bit of confidence and happiness, but it cracks. Because he’s here and Steve’s called everything off. Steve isn’t with him. Natasha shifts a little in her chair and licks her lips. She casts her eyes at him. 

“Can I say something?” She asks. Bucky nods and feels his heart pound away in his chest. Usually Natasha just speaks and doesn’t ask for permission. She only does when she’s about to say something that she knows will hit home. Something that she really needs him to listen to and to accept. No matter how nasty it may be, or how truthful it may be. She smiles a little, and she looks oddly happy, which should set him at ease really, but it doesn’t. 

“Bucky, I’ve known you since we were like what… thirteen? I’ve known you for fifteen years, at least. I have known all your girlfriends, and I was one for two weeks. But I’ve never once heard you speak about any of them like you did about this guy just now. And maybe that’s a sign? Romantically? Because that’s the impression I get from you when you talk about him. You told me a little just now but when you did, you cheered right up. And as soon as you stopped and realised he wasn’t yours, then you looked sad again. I don’t want you to be sad, Bucky. I want you to be happy. So please, take my advice okay? Do this for your own sake and your own happiness. Go after that guy, and tell him that you want to be with him,” Natasha says. That soft tone is back to her voice and for a moment it reminds Bucky of his mother, gently comforting him and urging him to do the right thing. Telling him what he needs to hear in order to get his ass in gear and go do what he needs to do for himself. 

Bucky doesn’t respond to her at first, he just looks at Natasha and takes in the words that she just said. The thought strikes him if he loves Steve, if that’s what the warm feeling in his body is whenever he thinks about him. It could be, he never truly loved his girlfriends. He never truly loved Vanessa, even if he wanted to move in with her. The thought of living with Steve however, watching that focused little furrow of his brows as he draws a complicated part of his next piece in his little artistic corner. Watching him talk to Tortellini while he’s cleaning the terrarium, watching him stick color pencils behind his ear and then forgetting that he put them there, holding his hand under a blanket when they watch a movie, kissing him good night. That feels like a dream to Bucky. 

Natasha smiles a little, happy with herself as she can tell that her words have finally sunk through and that he’s hearing what she’s saying. Accepting it and embracing it. The more Bucky thinks about it, the more he feels that fire in him. Spurring him on to go and talk to Steve and kiss him, and tell him that he wants to be with him. That he wants to spend the rest of his life with the man. “Do I know him?” She asks, now grinning. 

He considers his answer to her, feeling the biggest part of his despair being lifted from his shoulders now. He feels better, he feels lighter. His eyes are still burning from sleeping so badly and crying. His head is still pounding with his headache, but yet he feels like a brand new man. “No, I wouldn’t say that you do,” he tells her, and he’s honest with that. She met Steve only for a couple of minutes, that doesn’t count for knowing. She shrugs as if to say  _ too bad. _

“You should go tell him. Is he working? You better be standing on his doorstep before he comes home if he is,” she suggests, sending Bucky snorting. He shakes his head in response and looks to his lunch. It now seems more appetizing, but he’s got bigger things to think of than food. 

“He’s off work today actually, he’s home,” Bucky tells her, which really is a rather intimidating thought. But Steve had the courage to come up to his apartment, walk indoors and tell him that he needed to decide, which Bucky now realises is an incredibly courageous thing to do. Steve had given him the easy way out, by just giving him a call. He’s not going to do that, Bucky decides. Steve spoke to him face to face, and thus he deserves to hear it from Bucky in person. 

“Well, what the fuck are you here for then?” Natasha demands and smacks him on his arm. “Go! Go get your bag, and just go to him. I swear to god, you’re absolutely impossible,” Natasha murmurs and stands up, takes her bowl of salad and walks it over to the sink. 

“I got work!” Bucky blurts out, hell, he’s even behind on that now thanks to not being able to focus at it at all. Natasha turns, her bright red hair swaying quickly as she stares at him with an almost angry expression. 

“Are you fucking kidding me? Go after him, Barnes. You’re an idiot,” She mutters under her breath, beyond annoyed as she puts down her bowl in the sink with a bit more force than Bucky hopes she originally intended to. “Everyone’s seen you here miserable today. Go to him, I’ll tell people got a fever or a stomach bug or something and that you went home. I don’t want to see your miserable face ever again until there’s a smile back on it because you spoke to him, understood?”

“But,” Bucky begins his protest, but is already imagining himself grabbing his bag and racing out of the building. If he hurries, he could be at Steve’s apartment in less than half an hour, and then he can just slam his fist against the door until Steve opens and he can spill out his heart to the other man. And kiss the surprised look off his face when Steve is having difficulties comprehending what Bucky is actually telling him. 

“ _ Go _ !”

 

\--

 

His back is soaked with sweat from his race to Steve’s apartment. There hadn’t been a need to race, of course. Steve was home, and it was the middle of the day so he still had all afternoon and all evening to talk to him. After Natasha practically ushering him out of the staff room to get going, Bucky had set a pace that would leave him with an ache in his muscles the following day. 

He had gone to snatch his bag from his desk and left the office in a hurry. He’d headed for the first subway station and jumped on the first train that was going South. Two stops later, Bucky jumped off and went on another train for one more stop, and then headed back to the streets to close in the last distance to Steve’s apartment building. 

Bucky had tapped in the door code, only to mess it up the first time around because of the tremble in his hands. On his second attempt, he succeeded and let himself in. He pressed the button for the elevator, saw that it was all the way at the top of the sixth floor and decided that he was best off with the stairs. 

So there he stood, now in front of Steve’s door, shirt sticking uncomfortably against his skin and slightly out of breath. He was a jogger, a loyal member of his gym, but yet it seemed that none of that training was enough when he was about to go after someone that he loved, and that he didn’t want to lose. He waited for a moment, letting himself regain his posture a little and more importantly, catch his breath back so he didn’t have to wheeze every other word like the jackass he was. 

When he feels somewhat content about his own presentation, Bucky bals his fist, raises it, and knocks several times against Steve’s door. It was done, leaving him absolutely no chance to back out. Bucky grabs the strap of his bag over his shoulder with both of his hands and twists at it. Staring down to his shoes and tries to listen for any movement behind the door. What if he wasn’t home? It was his day off, that didn’t mean he had to sit indoors like Bucky did. Maybe he had plans that he neglected to tell Bucky about. 

But then, he hears the sound of footsteps behind the door and Bucky looks up again, just in case Steve looks through his own little round hole in the door to see who’s banging at his door. He hears how keys are twisted in the lock. The handle pushes down and the door opens, revealing Steve in a white, paint stained t-shirt and grey sweats, sporting just as many colours as his shirt does. He looks at him surprised, and Bucky forces up a nervous little smile, unable of handling the silence in between them any longer. “Hi.” 

“Hi,” Steve says gently in return. There is a hint of happiness in his voice, and Bucky sees how the corner of his mouth just wants to twitch up just that little bit to start off his sunshine smile. But Steve stops himself, looking about as miserable as Bucky feels. He also looks like he hasn’t been sleeping well, although his eyes aren’t red, but they have bags underneath them, slightly puffy. Somehow, there isn’t the same shine to his skin anymore. Steve clears his throat and leans against the doorway with his back, turning his side to Bucky and crosses his arms over his chest. “What do uhm --” Steve trails off, seemingly unsure of what to say to Bucky. 

“Can I come in? I’d like to talk to you,” Bucky tries, pointing to the inside of Steve’s apartment and hopes, prays that Steve doesn’t let him run his entire little speech out in the hallway. He had spent the entire train ride preparing what he’d say. Bucky’s not certain how much he’ll be able to stick to the settled speech once he actually opens his mouth and begins talking. “Please?” Bucky asks carefully, wanting to eradicate any form of doubt that Steve might have playing to his head. 

Steve looks oddly hopeful. He nods and steps away from the doorway, turning his back to Bucky and stepping into the apartment. Bucky steps inside and closes the door behind him. There’s a scent of paint hanging in the apartment, and it smells familiar as Bucky steps out of his shoes and puts down his bag. He pries off his jacket from himself and hopes that he doesn’t smell from the hurrying he’s done and folds it to lay over the rucksack.

He walks out to the living room, where Steve’s waiting for him on his couch, fingers folded together and looking up to Bucky with the tired, but yet bright eyes. He wanders -- a little lost -- to the centre of the room and spots the drawing that Steve’s been working on and he can’t help but look. It’s a bright splash of colour in the corner of his eye, so of course he turns and takes that one step that brings him closer to it and looks. 

Steve has been drawing a kaleidoscope of butterflies of all different sorts and kinds. He’s finished with the outlines of it, and has now started to colour them in with his coloured pencils, creating a vibrant nest of colours. “This is real pretty,” Bucky comments and taps at the desk, careful not to touch the artwork. He’s always scared that he’ll smudge it with his fingertips and that he’ll ruin the artwork that Steve so clearly poured hours of work into. 

“Thank you,” Steve says and looks proud of himself. He gets that nervous little smile that means he wants to break out in a grin, but doesn’t feel quite confident enough to do so yet. Most likely because the work isn’t finished, and Steve  _ does  _ have a low, underlying level of anxiety that thinks none of his artworks are good until he sees the complete project. “What did you want to talk about?” 

Bucky leaves the art desk behind and goes over to the other wing of the couch and sits down on it, shuffling his hands under his thighs to stop himself from gesturing around like a lunatic when he’s talking. Although he doesn’t doubt that Steve might find it funny, just a little bit. “I wanted to talk to you because I’ve thought over what you said. And while I haven’t quite reached to a decision, I do know what to say to you.”

“Okay,” Steve nods at him, and that same hopeful little glint in his eyes appears. But Steve still keeps himself looking calm and collected as he watches Bucky and waits for him to continue. He’s like Natasha in that sense, but he doesn’t speak up again to encourage him to continue. Instead, despite the nerves and the anxiety, he sits and waits patiently for Bucky to form the words at his own pace, which is just as much of a blessing as it is a curse. 

“I’m going to be honest, just as you were with me,” Bucky begins. He can almost visibly see how the courage that Steve’s been gathering just sinks down deep in his chest. Yet Steve nods. “I’m… I’m not sure what I am. I’m not sure if I’m gay, if I’m straight, or hell, if I’m even bi, I could be. At the same time there’s a chance that I’m not. But you know what?” Bucky asks him, thinking of what Natasha told him. Steve doesn’t respond, nor does he shake his head. He just lets Bucky continue. “It doesn’t matter, I don’t need to figure that out now, because other people are of no interest to me. I don’t care if I’m attracted to just men, or just women or just both. What I care about now is that I’m attracted to  _ you _ . In so, so many ways. Not just physically, but sexually, mentally. I’m attracted to all that is you, even if you’re a jackass at times and who overwatered my one plant and killed it.” 

Bucky finds himself smiling at Steve a little, and sees how Steve slowly begins to grow more comfortable as the words that he’s been saying finally start sinking in. Steve’s shoulders drop from around his ears. His smile and his facial features start to look less guarded. Steve relaxes. “And… And I want to be with you, in any way you’ll have me, but… particularly, how I’ve been having you for these past few weeks. I hope that you do too, and that we can give us a chance?” Bucky asks, trying very hard not to sound to hopeful at what he’s suggesting. But the odds are in his favor, right? Steve admitted to feelings, it would only be natural for Steve to act up on those feelings.

Steve gives away how he thinks about it with that bright sunlit smile of his that he can’t contain anymore no matter how hard he tries. In an instant all of Steve’s fears and woes disappear off his face. He doesn’t look tired anymore, the bags under his eyes seem to vanish of their own accord, just because the energy that he carries changes. Steve nods quickly, his eyes begin to water and he dries them with his shirt and light laughter. Bucky joins in, now unable to stop himself from smiling and feeling his cheeks even beginning to hurt. “Yes,” Steve says with that very same, wide smile and keeps nodding. He reaches out to take Bucky’s hand and squeezes it. Bucky squeezes him right back. 

“Yes,” Steve repeats and tugs at Bucky’s hand, pulling him closer on the couch and closing in the distance between them. Bucky ends up kneeling on the floor so he can face Steve as the man throws his strong arms around Bucky’s neck and hugs him tight. Instinctively, he moves his own arms around Steve’s back and holds him. Pressing Steve’s chest against his own. A little like he’s trying to make a poetic move of trying to merge their hearts together. Bucky doesn’t care, it feels like it’s right at that moment, that they belong together that way. 

“Yes,” Steve whispers against Bucky’s skin where his shoulder meets his neck, just above the hem of his shirt. “I want to be with you and I want to give us a chance. I’m so, so happy that you do too,” Steve whispers, fingers stroking at the soft little curled strands of hair at the base of Bucky’s neck. It sends a little shiver down Bucky’s spine, and he feels the goosebumps break out on his arm. Steve always manages to do that. 

Bucky kisses Steve’s shoulder and then pulls back a little. He lets go of Steve’s middle and slides his hands in between them, up Steve’s chest and places both of his hands in Steve’s neck. He strokes one thumb over Steve’s jaw and looks him into his blue eyes with that one little fleck of green in it. Steve smiles at him and puts one large hand over Bucky’s. 

Bucky leans in and kisses Steve. 

_ His  _ Steve now. 

 

\--

 

The alarm that goes off in the morning is absolutely unnecessary, and Bucky groans his protest and hugs his pillow tighter. The ringtone is by far more annoying than his own, and he can’t quite understand why Steve would even have his alarm set for every single morning no matter if he works or not. His shift isn’t until two in the afternoon, what sort of person still sets their alarm for seven in the morning. 

“Turn it off,” Bucky whines into his pillow and curls up. Behind him, Steve groans and holds Bucky tighter for a short moment. Then the furnace that is Steve Rogers rolls off him and the arm disappears from his middle. Bucky grips at the sheets so Steve doesn’t roll away with all of them. He hears Steve’s hand slam down on his nightstand, fumble around for his phone, and plunge the room back into silence. 

Steve rolls back against Bucky and drops his arm around Bucky’s waist. He opens one eye to see that Steve’s still holding his phone. Behind him, Steve presses a soft kiss to Bucky’s naked shoulder, and then drops his phone just on the cover, pulls his arm back and slides it under, wrapping around Bucky tightly and stroking his thumb over the skin by Bucky’s stomach. 

Bucky lays still for a moment, doing his best to doze right back off into sleep. But his rest is disturbed now, and he’s enjoying the feel of Steve against and around him like that. He finds himself smiling a little at the idea and knowledge that it is his future now. 

“Are you going to go to work today?” Bucky asks him and hopes that the answer is no. He wants to spend all day with Steve, in bed with him, on his couch. He wants to spend all day kissing him and cuddling him, and doing so much more when the mood strikes them. They’re in no rush now. 

Steve makes a sound and strokes his nose very gently against Bucky’s neck, it almost makes him involuntarily pull his shoulder up to avoid the ticklish sensation. “I don’t know,” Steve sighs, his grip around Bucky grows a little bit tighter, as if he too doesn’t want to let go of Bucky and is plotting the same sort of things that Bucky is. Steve kisses his shoulders again. “Are you? Don’t you start at like, eight?” 

“Well,” Bucky shifts a little in Steve’s grip, rolling on the same spot so he’s laying on his other side and blinks up to Steve. He’s got no doubt that he still looks exhausted, with his hair a complete mess. But he doesn’t really care, Steve smiles at him fondly and strokes his cheek. “Yesterday, Natasha said she was going to cover for me, say I had a stomach bug or a fever or something. And work policy says that I’ve got to be free of fever for at least twenty-four hours before I’m welcome back through the doors,” Bucky hums and presses a kiss to Steve’s lips. The hand that previously had been stroking his cheek now cups it. “You?” Bucky whispers softly against Steve’s lips, and feels how the other smiles. 

“I am in bed with someone who’s got a fever and a highly contagious stomach bug. The odds would not be in my favor, especially when I started to catch it yesterday. And I do work a customer service job, so it would be best if I stayed indoors rather than spread it to anyone who comes up to my cash register,” Steve hums, nipping a little at Bucky’s lower lip. 

Bucky laughs a little, slides his arm under Steve’s and pulls him in. He kisses Steve deeply, who responds in an equally enthusiastic manner.

Bucky could do this for the rest of his life. 


End file.
